Renegades
by Brooklyn Knight
Summary: When you can have anything you want, you don't really want much. Soraya Harman knew this better than most others. Content with her life in the sleepy town of Hemlock Grove, her attention is immediately brought to the new blue eyed gypsy boy. Peter Rumancek's arrival in Hemlock Groves will change everything she ever knew… R x OC established, P x OC main romance, OT3 endgame.
1. 1x01: Summer's End (MA)

_WARNING: Roman x OC casual sexual relationship in some parts. Peter x OC main romance. [Might possibly become OT3 in second season, let me know your wants/thought/ideas]. All chapters including graphic sex are marked with MA. Otherwise rated M for violence, language, and drug use. Please give it and my OC time to develop and reveal her back story. (Its boring learning all about a character at once.) Now Enjoy!_

* * *

The minute that my left hand meets your waist  
And then I watch your face  
Put my finger on your tongue  
'Cause you love to taste

The Neighbourhood : Sweater Weather

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **Jelly Fish In the Sky**

 ** _Summer's End_**

* * *

The remaining days of summer had both the children and adults of Hemlock Grove in a frenzy. Walking down the surprisingly empty street, Soraya took note of the fact the school supply and children's clothing stores were filled to the brim with procrastinating parents and their uncooperative children.

Children and teens alike were desperate to soak up as much of the clear blue skies and warm sunshine as they could before being forced to drag themselves into the dreary fluorescent overheads of school. If there was one thing about the school years beginning that Soraya was looking forward to it would be limited contact she'd have with the younger, much stickier, children. Raising her shopping bags high in the air, the bottoms grazed the heads of a small stampede of them running out of the Nutty Chocolatire.

At least two of the six had the courage to turn back around and apologize. Soraya gave them a forced forgiving smile, and lowering the bags filled with clothes more expensive than their lives, she entered the refreshingly cool candy store. Finding her intended target, Soraya placed the bags down on one of the chairs and took a seat across from him. "Please explain to me why, of all the places on this street, you choose the one filled with _children_.", she made her displeasure known as she took off her sunglasses to reveal her winged multicolored eyes. "And what the hell are you doing with that?" She noticed the large vanilla icecream cone he held in his hand. Not eating. Just holding...

"For the sole purpose of torturing you of course." Roman Godfrey droned. His large green eyes were focused outside the door, still waiting for something or someone. Soraya spared the doorway a glance, other than the occasional parent dragging their begging child away from the store, nothing stood out enough to warrant her interest. Her gaze returned to the boy once more.

Roman Godfrey... She had met him when passing through town on her way to Seattle last winter. His big green eyes, plush lips, sharp features and, admittedly intimidating, height drew her attention but it was the haughty mirth in his smirk and the dark gleam of mischief in his eyes that had continued to keep it. Meeting at a random party, they soon found themselves in a particular sort of relationship.

Soraya would best describe it as a supply and demand kind of thing... Together they were able to keep their sexual appetites satisfied. She had the will and want to indulge some of this kinkier desires and he had the skill to keep her entertained in the bedroom and outside of it. Their shared... uniquenesses, didn't hurt either.

They weren't in a relationship. No, no, Sonya didn't do relationships. But they were in an agreement of sorts. Though it appeared complicated to outsiders, they personally found their sexual relationship rather simple. They each had a want that the other could satisfy. A demand the other could supply. Simple.

Those few weeks of winter vacation had been enough to have Soraya grow attached to both Roman and his younger sister Shelly. Luckily, she wasn't the only one. The day before she was supposed to leave for the start of her new school semester, Roman arrived with a simple question. How would she like to stay in Hemlock Grove with them?

Roman satisfied her desires better than most others and Shelley, sweet Shelley, was the closest thing to true friend she'd ever had.

She agreed without a single doubt.

Eight months later and here she sat...

"I ran into Letha in the store. It's been decided you're taking us to Pennsylmania tomorrow." _Hmm..still no response…._ Soraya rolled her eyes. Whatever it was he was looking for had him so deep in a trance he didn't even notice the untouched ice cream melting until she ran a finger over the cone. Collecting the trail of melted vanilla-bean, she sucked it from her finger with a kiss. "Hmm. Sweet." She commented offhandedly. Suddenly the ice cream was held out in front of her for the taking. Pinging her eyes from the cone to him, to the girl just standing in the door, and back, she realized what this was. "Did you invite me here just to keep you company as you waited for a hooker." Her tone was more amused than angry.

"You won't let me have any fun." Soraya rolled her eyes. The beauty of their relationship was that they could fuck for days straight or not fuck for months at a time. Really it all depended on if they found others to amuse themselves with for a while. However, after an offhanded comment about her weight, Soraya, for the first time, had been purposely withholding herself from him. _Tell Roman Godfrey he can't have something and it makes him crave it all that much more..._ "Besides, it would be a shame to waste good ice cream." He handed her the cone before promptly taking his leave without another word. _That motherfucker..._

Licking the ice cream cone, her eyes happened to catch the boy behind the counter watching her. Lips curling into a smile she reveled in his nervous gulp as she gave him a little show. Five minutes, a few disgruntled coughs from parents, and the counter boy excusing himself to the bathroom later, she walked out of the candy store with her bags and what remained of her cone. Passing by the girl in the blue sundress still adjusting to walking to walking she smiled as she got in the car.

Roman was sucking on his thumb, obviously having decided to enjoy himself to the full extent knowing the hooker wouldn't say a word about it. She always found it disheartening to see how self-conscious he was about his little kink. Upon a sudden silence filling the car, he happened to look at her out of the corner of his eye. Soraya's lips were twisted to the side, a silent chuckle shaking her chest. "What?" He prompted.

"That didn't take long, did it?" Roman paused in lighting the two cigarettes in his mouth, sparing her a look that said to let it go before he handed her one and shifted the gears. "Take me home." She ordered, enjoying the smell of cigarettes and sex in the car. "We have a party to get ready for."

* * *

Soraya Harman was by all definitions a Night Owl. To the New York native, the sleepy town of Hemlock Grove only became exciting when the sun went down and the kiddies and parents went to bed. Parties raged from 10 till 2 and after parties went early into the sunrise. The abundance of abandoned spaces coupled with the lax drinking laws and surprisingly plentiful drugs made for a grand old time to the teens and young adults of the town. After she and Roman had attended such a party that encompassed all three, the teens were currently sleeping off well-deserved hangovers in the safety of their beds. Or at least they were...

After all, patience was one of the few things Olivia Godfrey didn't have.

After loudly and rudely being woken up by the matriarch to accompany Shelly shopping, the bronze haired beauty now set her sights on another goal. Newly returned from her second shopping spree in as many days but with only one new dress added to Shelly's wardrobe, Soraya was riding high on her grand achievement. The oxy she popped on the way back wasn't hurting either...

Strutting into Roman's room she observed Mommy-Dearest scolding the prodigal son. "Much as it pains me to deprive _monsieur_ of his customary 14 hours, I do believe it's time to wake. Even that ones up and about." Olivia spared the girl a glance as she crawled past her onto the bed, laying up beside her son. She seemed to ignore the tension in the room as she rested herself against the messed pillows and headboard.

Roman's hand habitually swept up her leg to settle on her hip.

"Your tailors waiting for you downstairs. I gave him a dress to alter for Shelly." She played with his bed messed hair, not helping him stay awake in the least.

"Hear that, dear, you're late for your appointment." Olivia's eyes went back to her son.

"Oh, shit. I completely spaced. I told Letha I'd _squire her_ to the amusement park later." He mocked his mother British accent before tucking his head in Soraya's stomach.

"Take her tomorrow."

"School starts tomorrow." He corrected her. Soraya rolled her eyes at the duo and pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his nightstand.

"Precisely why you need new clothes."

Realizing his mother had no plans of giving up, he rolled away from his lover to give the matriarch an equally cross look. "I don't need new clothes. It's taken me 17 years to perfect my look, all right?" All he wanted was to spend his last day of summer in peace.

"Apparently not enough time to learn the distinction between vintage and old." Olivia pulled an old tank top off the floor. It's neck line riddled with small holes and tears from years of good use. "Would you let him go out in this?" She asked the little twit screwing her son.

"I prefer him in nothing at all," Sorya smirked. There was no love lost between them and any chance to remind the cold woman how much both her children adored her would be, and was, taken.

But Olivia's face remained unchanged. "These rags are retired. You're going shopping." Rolling up the tank top, she threw it on the foot of the bed before moving over to take a seat at his bar.

In a last ditch effort to save his final summer, Roman pulled out the only other person she might listen to. "Isn't Norman saying that in this economy we need to be backing off on the conspicuous consumption front?" He sat up, letting Soraya's hand fall down his back. "It makes us unsympathetic."

"You _are_ unsympathetic." The younger woman raked her nails over his shoulders. Her high wearing off and boredom setting in, she was beginning to take note the fact he was currently naked under the covers.

"And I suppose if your Uncle Norman lent you The Communist Manifesto, I'd have to find recipes for borscht?"

Roman, still slightly hung over was tired of his mothers voice. Grabbing a pillow he held it over his ears as he rolled back into Soraya's embrace, letting his face rest in the crook of her already lotioned and perfumed skin.

"May I, darling?" Olivia asked out of politeness rather than interest as she lit a cigarette of her own. Her eyes settling over the girl her precious son was so enticed by. Soraya Harman was tolerated by her because she made life easier. To an extent. Her friendship with Shelly made the shy girl happy and less dependent and her relationship with Roman kept him entertained and leashed. As long as she kept light in Shelly's eyes and Roman under some resemblance of control, she would be allowed in the Godfrey Mansion. But just because she tolerated her, didn't mean she had to like her.

Having those cold brown eyes settle on her own, Soraya gave a tight smile. Pulling up the pillow just a bit, she whispered that his mother was obviously not going away. Nor did she have any plans to, by the looks of it. Losing the battle, Roman caved and looked towards her stoic form. "Roman, you're an adult. More or less." She quickly corrected herself. "If you'd rather spend the day with your _courtesan_ -" she dug at Soraya. "-and cousin, than your mother, just say so." Her smile was so well practiced neither Soraya or the Godfrey children could tell the fake from the real. The gleam of threat in her eye was well recognized though.

But not even that stopped Roman from replying without missing a beat, "I'd rather hang out with her and Letha."

"Of course, darling." Her smile was soft and motherly as she took one final drag of her cigarette before promptly putting it out in his jeans. "Oh dear." She feigned shock as the teens stared at her. One with anger the other with admiration. "Well, I guess you don't have much of a choice now." Her sweet voice mocked as she left. "And please hurry. It's not polite to make the elderly wait." The door closed behind her with a loud slam.

Roman grabbed the pillow once more, using it to muffle his scream as Soraya grinned at the door. "I hope to be half the bitch she is one day."

It was her face covered by the pillow next...

* * *

Roman's mood had not improved later that day. His steely green eyes paused in his loathing stare long enough to follow Soraya walking around him. Chewing on the turkey sandwich she'd made herself, her blue eyes ran over his still form with appraisal. "You look like a Ken doll."

Standing still in his jeans, pale pink shirt, and half completed suit jacket, the boy only moved when his arm was lifted or lowered by the tailor. "I think he looks handsome." His mother defended from the couch. Roman spare both women a single eye roll.

"Why are taking fashion advice from a woman who only owns white?" The bronze haired girl picked at her sandwich in a pout. He never let her shop for him, and she could do a lot with that long lean body and chiseled features...

"Well, darling, some of us have this gift called style." Olivia made the smile fall from her lips. Picking at her sandwich, Soraya glanced up innocently.

"But could imagine how easy it is to stain? I mean, just how mad would you be if something got on it?" Her finger brought a glob of yellow mustard to her lips. The condiment partially falling onto the plate threateningly.

"Murderous." Olivia snapped back quickly with a warning smile.

"What would you have me do?" Roman broke the tension between them. "Let you dress me? I'd never wear anything."

"You say it like it's a bad thing." Soraya smiled. "We need more nudity in the world!" She spared the old tailor a glance, twisting her lips to keep from laughing. "In most cases."

Olivia received a text message, her phone buzzing shortly before a possibly genuine smile graced her lips. "Now, I'm not sure Norman would approve-" Olivia got up to stand behind her son. "-but I've arranged a small surprise for indulging your poor old mother on the last day of your summer vacation." Her arms wrapped around him to show the screen of her phone.

Whatever it was, was good enough to make Roman's face break out in an excited grin, a shocked laugh coming from his chest. He took the phone from her hands to make sure it was real, inspecting the screen as if to prove it was a trick of some sort. "You rented out _Pennsylmania_?!"

"I did." His mother beamed with pride.

Whatever annoyance she had caused him this day was wiped clean. Unable to keep from smiling, he laughed. "Alright." His mother kissed his cheek before leaving the room.

"And who exactly are you planning to invite to this little party?"

"Why, my best girls of course." His hand wrapped around her waist bringing her close before she side stepped his lips and embrace.

"Such a shame you're still in trouble. I've never had sex on a roller coaster." Soraya commented offhandedly as she left to inform Shelly of her new plans for tonight. His pleased smile was lowered to a mischievous smirk. _Damn her..._

* * *

With unbridled excitement, Soraya nearly skipped into Shelly's attic room. "Put on your pumps and that gorgeous new dress because we're going out tonight, babe!" She shouted. Shelly's heart hammered in her chest. The sudden interruption was so unexpected she jumped and let her book fly out of her bandaged hands.

" _Where are you going?_ " The computerized voice rang out after she collected herself.

"Not me. _WE!_ " She corrected. "Your mother bought out Pennsylmania tonight and you, my dear, are joining us." Soraya opened up the small wardrobe to look for something good to dress her in. Shelly had surprisingly good taste in clothing, just limited options in her size, and even less confidence of trying to wear them.

" _No, thank you._ " She typed, crouching to pick up her book from the floor.

"It wasn't a request." Soraya laughed, pulling out large but polished boots.

" _Please, no._ "

Though just as computerized at monotone as the rest of her words, there was a scared desperation that Soraya could hear as if it came from the girl's own lips. Her heart broke for the giant little girl. Letting the dress slip from her fingers she walked over to the nearly huddled girl.

Standing in front of her, she pulled Shelly's chin up to look at her, there wasn't much height difference with Soraya standing and Shelly sitting. Her brown eyes stared up at her through her hair, sparkling when Soraya gave her a sympathetic smile. "I love you too much to let you waste away in here." She spoke honestly.

If there were ever two polar opposites of people it would be Shelly and Soraya. The first meeting had been anything but smooth. Shelly came down for breakfast only to find a strange girl only wearing her brother's shirt. The timid girl didn't know how to respond to the casual stranger that offered her a piece of bacon like they had lived together all their lives. Soraya had complimented her eyes. Both of them. And Shelly glowed blue and mumbled a scream when she realized she was without her wig. Soraya had called her, settling her down before pulling open her eyelids to show that she too had odd eyes. Beautiful, but odd. A dark blue ring surrounded an inner mix of pale green, yellow, and specks of amber. Shelly was captivated. Since that day Shelly felt more comfortable with the girl then she did her own mother.

And for Soraya... Shelly made her feel different. Dare she say good about herself. It was the way she looked at you thought the browns strands of her hair, the gleam of her braces peeking out from her little smile. Shelly had this ability to look at you like you were worth more than you were. Like you were the smartest, kindest, most intriguing person she's ever met. And even though she knew she didn't deserve it, Soraya still reveled in the girl that looked at her like she was the most important thing on earth. (Well, other than her brother of course. Roman hung the moon and painted the stars, in Shelly's eyes.) But it was this look that had Soraya wanting so desperately to repay her kindness.

"You wanna know the secret to having the time of your life, Shell? Stop giving a fuck what people think." Shelly looked down and fidgeted nervously. Soraya smiled defeated. "But that's a little too extreme for you yet so we'll take baby steps. The park is rented out completely. Other than, like, the hundred people there to cater to us it will be absolutely empty. No one will be there to look at you or judge you or insanely think for one second they're better than you."

Shelly seemed to consider the offer and Soraya knew she had to reel her in now or lose her forever. Grabbing her bandaged hands in her own, Soraya got on her knees and did something she had done maybe twice in her life. She begged. "Please? Pretty please?! Pretty please with popcorn on top!" She whined, making Shelly giggle. "Come out and play with me!"

It took a few fake sniffled of tears before she heard the click-clack of the stylus against the phone.

 _"OK"_

* * *

"You're having the time of your life and you know it!" Soraya laughed as she and Shelly headed towards the carousel Letha had whisked Roman off to. "I heard you laughing!" She praised the giant walking with her. Shelly had indeed agreed to come to the park but stuck to the carnival games and less intense attractions. When Letha and Roman ran off to take a ride on the carousel, Soraya took the opportunity to near man handle the 6'7 girl onto one of the bigger and exciting rides. Sure enough, after a few minutes, their screams turned to joyful laughter, Shelly's vocal cords straining as a distinct throaty giggle passed her lips.

" _You were right. It was the most fun I've ever had._ "

"What are you up for next? Roller coaster? Giant swing? That thing that spins you until you wanna puke?"

" _Food sounds good_." Shelley's eager eyes belied the monotone machine voice.

"Food it is!" She looped her arm with Shelly leading her over towards the cotton candy and pretzel cart. Upon finding the bench Letha had left her large stuffed bear on, they sat and waited for the older Godfrey children to meet up. Sure enough, they came back to find them nearly done with their snacks. Roman took the cigarette out of his mouth to place a kiss to Soraya's melted cheese covered lips. _Someone was certainly in a good mood._ Popping the remainder of her pretzel in his mouth, he relinquished his cigarette to her. The Harman girl took a deep drag, burning it to its stump before putting it out on the edge of a trash can and throwing it away on their walk back.

Roman lifted up the giant plush toy and held it over his shoulders as he escorted his ladies. As Letha grabbed a bag of cotton candy herself, Soraya couldn't help but notice where they had stopped. "Oh look." Her tone was sweet but her eyes were filled with malicious intent. "There's the roller coaster..."

Roman narrowed his eyes as she helped herself to some of Letha's candy and placed the spun sugar on her tongue. Tease that she was, she gave a satisfied moan as she stared him in his narrow green eyes. All the while their smirks never left either of them.

"Are you two in a fight?" Letha asked, glancing back and forth.

"No." They responded together.

"Really 'cause I'm getting a very big fighting-couple vibe from you."

"We're not a couple." Soraya quickly reminded. "Besides...I don't fight. I punish." Her smile was sly as she spun to lead them.

Seeing Roman's eyes roll, Letha tried to save the mood with a random fact. "Do you know that Pennsylvania has more hate groups per capita out of any state in the country?"

"No shit?" Soraya's brows rose high on her head. "Yeah, that sounds right." She recalled the few times anyone had been stupid enough to try and use racial slurs against her. Her Estonian heritage was often ignored in lieu the Iranian and Israeli parts of her. The bigots of Hemlock Grove High had a field day when she revealed it in a class.

"It's about time we won something."

Letha offer the candy to Shelly before continuing, "We also lead the nation in Hoho consumption. I wonder if there's a correlation."

"The moral superiority of being skinny?" Roman offered when the entrance to the roller coaster caught his eye. "Come on."

"Mm, not tonight."

The fact neither of the three girls made to follow made him stop. Letting the plush top fall from his back he was in stunned disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Mm, I'm not in the mood." Letha's face twisted in distaste.

"Come on! When else are you gonna get on this without a line?!"

"When have you ever stood in line?" Letha challenged him.

His eyes scanned from his sister, who typed out it was too high for her, to his cousin, to his lover. "None of you?" None of them it appeared...

"What do you think they think of us?" Letha suddenly asked, seeing the sporadically placed workers. Most were staring straight ahead or away, not wanting to offend or engage with the group of odd but wealthy kids.

"Who?" Roman raised a brow.

Letha smiled sadly, glancing around at the mostly ignored staff. " _Exactly_."

Soraya rolled her eyes a bit peeved Letha would bring up the staff Shelley was already uneasy about. "I think they think they're getting paid a shit-ton of money for working half the time and a thousandth the effort." Looking one of the blue shirted staff in the eyes before they snapped their gaze to the other direction. "So who the fuck cares what else." She spared Shelly a glance, noticing the fact that she seemed to try and shrink with the realization there was indeed staff staring at them.

"Alright what am I thinking?" Letha suddenly asked, feeling like playing an old game between them.

Roman focused intently, scrunching up his face in pretend frustration. "Mmm that you wish the summer would never end."

"I'm thinking that it's time to go home." She confessed, making him lose his smile.

"Really?"

" _I still have things to do before school."_ Shelly agreed. It wasn't hard to determine that the real driving force behind her words were the three workers staring up at her.

"Not everyone's a night Owl." Soraya defended the downers. She'd rather end the day on a high note than have it turn sour because half of them wanted to leave. Seeing her point, for the second time that day, Roman was defeated by the women.

"Wait." He stopped. "Do you want Bob?" Letha eagerly agreed for him to get her monster sized monster plushy.

"Bob? What kind of bullshit name is Bob?"

"Your snake is named Fluffy!" Letha laughed at her.

"Yeah! It's ironic and you said it was cute!" She took the bag and swung it at her.

"Come on, ladies, let's get out of here." Roman didn't need to tell them twice.

* * *

Having dropped off Letha some time ago and Shelly having scurried off to check her supplies and finish her book before tomorrow, Soraya felt like the eleven o'clock time flashing on her clock was mocking her. Whatever it was she had thought she'd spend her last night of summer doing, it was certainly not getting ready for bed before 3 am. The rare occurrence that Netflix was down, nothing good was on TV, and the fact Roman had yet to apologize, coupled with own boredom had accumulated enough to convince her into throwing in the towel and just going to bed.

Having brushed her teeth, and washed her face, Soraya was just finishing up her nightly ritual when Roman found her. He was left in only his tee-shirt and boxers as he stepped into her room. The white shirt was pulled over his head and discarded on his way to her bathroom. His arms wrapped around her, interrupting her usual skin lotioning, as he pressed himself against her, each only in their underwear and bare chested. She wouldn't deny the shivers he sent up her spine as his bare chest pressed against her back, his warm breath running over her neck as he tried to seduce her.

"What are you doing?" She huffed a laugh watching his hands run over her hip and stomach, helping her to smooth in lotion. The huffy attitude covering just how much the touch made her wanna stretch into it like a cat in heat.

"What do you think?" His short nails raked over her stomach, pink lines appearing before his wrists were caught and stilled.

"Oh. No." She pried his hands off her soft flesh and stepped out of his reach with a scolding smirk. Roman jaw ticked, following after her into the bedroom.

"Do I really have to say it?"

"Yes." She smiled at him through the mirror of her vanity. Checking to make sure her makeup and jewelry were ready for the morning, she suddenly ignored his brooding silent presence. She was playing hard to get and it was both infuriating and exhilarating to him. When she bent down to shimmy off her underwear he lost his third and final battle with women that day.

"Jesus fucking Christ. _I'm sorry_!" He seethed the words that always tasted bitter on his tongue. Finally, she stood straight and looked at him. He was honest to god sorry. Never in his life had he regretted speaking without thinking so much as now. Fuck, when he said her ass seemed fuller he meant it as a compliment! Skimming his hands over the under-curve of the source of this entire fight, they snaked their way around her waist pulling her flush against his own near nakedness. "You're beautiful." He kissed up her neck once more, desperate to get the taste of apology out of his mouth. " _Gorgeous_." He nipped at her ear, hands moving up from her hips over the smooth expanse of flesh till he reached her breasts. "Fucking e _thereal_." He messaged the mounds, nose buried in her sweet smelling neck. She was so excited her pulse jumped against his hovering lips. Like little butterfly wings against them...

"That's better." She conceded. She turned and grabbed at his broad shoulders, settling him on the vanity chair before bending to pull the boxers down his ridiculously long legs. At 5'9 Soraya had never considered herself short until meeting the 6'4 giant. He wasted no time pulling her onto his lap, lips attaching themselves to the soft flesh of her shoulder while her hand worked him to his full length. Her hands slid up the smooth pale length of it, twisting the head just enough to make his hips buck clear off the seat. Once he was hard as could be she reached back into one of the little drawers pulling out a familiar, yet rarely used, foil package. The sudden foil pressed between his lips in her skin made him stop.

"Seriously?" He took the condom forced towards him.

"You fucked a hooker." Her tone wasn't angry just firm. Reminding him that just as easy as she had forgiven him she could go back to the cold but teasing shoulder.

"I wore one." He reassured. But her stance went unchanged. His eyes sparking in annoyance, he ripped it open and applied it himself while Soraya leaned back against the vanity desk. Pulling a small glass box towards them, she flicked the top open to reveal her stash of drugs. Razor included.

"Cheer up, Rome." She plucked the razor up, carefully sliding it between her lips to get the powder off before handing it to him. His eyes gained a new spark of excitement as he fingered the blade with ease, his fingertip pricking just a bit before he carefully ran it down the fleshy part of her shoulder he had been lavishing. The blood brought to the surface by his kisses spilled immediately. The razor thrown back onto the desk when she stood up to adjust herself. He was torn between watching himself enter her or watching the blood spill down her chest. The later one won out in the end.

Her face twisted up in familiar pleasure, rocking her hips in a tortuously slow rhythm. His fingers ran over the trial of blood, smearing it across her neck and shoulder, streaking the tops of her breast and staining her gasping lips.

Her comment about his stamina yesterday reminded him to make it last. Waiting until she was at that near peak before stopping long enough to make her start from the middle all over. By the end of it, she was shuddering with need, furiously trying to find her release as he licked up every last trace of blood. Saving her lips for last, he laid a bruising kiss to them as he picked her up and near threw her to the bed. Legs wrapped high around his waist, his hips snapping unforgiving against her until she let out a wail of a release, body shuddering and spasaming moments before his own.

Oh what a way to end the summer…

* * *

 **Please Review :)**


	2. 1x01: We Are Wolves

**-:I:-**

* * *

A wave of heads did turn, or so I've been told  
My heart broke when I saw you kept your gaze controlled  
Why can't you want me like the other boys do?  
They stare at me while I crave you

Adventure Club Remix : Crave You

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **Jelly Fish In the Sky  
**

 ** _We Are Wolves_  
**

* * *

Blue eyes scanned the school yard with a discreet determination. Soraya Harman was on the prowl.

 _Girls and Boys beware._

Her bronze colored hair was held up in a high ponytail falling pin straight between her shoulder blades, leaving her long neck and shoulders open to the stare of one Roman Godfrey. "Hunting for fresh meat?" He mumbled behind two cigarettes. Once lit, he flicked his lighter close and habitually handed one to her.

"I love the start of school." She took a long drag off the cigarette. Her smirk twisted into a full grin as she witness a crowd of Freshmen huddle together like lost sheep. "Look at them. All wide eyed and nervous shuffles..." Her laugh made Roman smile. He joined her, leaning against the brick dividing wall she currently was perched on. One foot was crossed under her, the other left to sway gently in the breeze, her black platform pump dangling carelessly from her toes.

"Setting your sights a little low this year..."

"Oh please, freshmen can't fuck _themselves_ without a self help guide and a YouTube tutorial. No. I'm looking for transfers." Her multicolored eyes scanned the front school yard.

"Is the Hemlock High menu not to your liking?"

"You know how bored I get..." Soraya stopped her hunt to spare him a glance. "Your not available to tend to my entertainment nearly as much as you should be." Her hand skimmed up his thigh, bring a light smile to both their faces. "I want someone new." She slapped it, turning back to her hunt. "Someone interesting. Someone..." Blue eyes caught onto one figure in the sporadically passing crowd. "Someone like _him_." Roman followed her sharp gaze to her new target.

Near shoulder length, wavy, dark brown hair. Soft features. Good jaw, under even better scruff. Possibly only a few inches taller then herself. And a body hidden under layers of clothing that was either slightly muscular or soft an lean (either worked for her).

Yes, new boy would have been the prime candidate in her search for entertainment had it not been for his eyes.

Feeling their focused stairs, he turned and stare backed, noticing how their eyes followed him as he passed. The male's held vague interest in a stoic face while the female's could best be described as electrifying. There a was a sense of lust in her gaze and mischief in her smirk. Peter quickly turned away.

Sadly not soon enough. New boy might have had a chance if he hadn't flashed his baby blues her way. While mischief drew her into Roman's green orbs, a cautious sweetness would draw her into Peter's.

The large blue pools were so light they were like ice.

And now she wanted to see him melt...

"Him. I want _him_." Soraya put out her cigarette and flicked it into the grass, eyes still following the boy in question. From beside her, Roman smirked, letting his shoulder be used to steady herself back on the ground.

"And what you want, you always get." His eyes scanned up her body, from her heeled feet, over her jean ridden legs to the low cut tank top she wore.

"I learn from the best." Her hands ran over the long expanse of his chest, teeth nipping at his lips for a kiss. "Make good choices, babe. I'm off to hunt."

* * *

 _Lean, definitely lean._ Soraya happily confirmed as Peter removed his jacket. Her heels gently clicked against the tiled floor as she walked towards his locker, but before she could get a closer look a situation unfolding ahead of them made her stop.

Alexa and Alyssa Sworn, the Sheriff's twin daughters. After a particularly mind numbing orgasm from Roman in the nearby supply closet, Soraya had a moment stumbled upon the two Freshmen crying in the girls bathroom. A hazy moment of compassion took over, and the new Junior told them they looked hot as hell and to ignore the prissy shits calling them sluts.

Dear god how she wished she hadn't….

For months afterwards the little Freshmen had followed the Junior around, desperately trying to befriend (and become) her. Like some weird imprinted duckling shit, they seemed to idolize the older, brasher, and more developed girl. The fact she had _the_ Roman Godfrey under her thumb only further drove them to find out what it was that made Soraya Harman so irresistible.

It took a few months but they finally got the hint she was in no way, shape, or form, looking for apprentices nor lackeys nor a posse.

Still didn't stop the girls from wanting to become the next Soraya Harman.

If only they were aware of how much she loathed them...

Blonde, petite, and pretty, they seemed to be well aware they were attractive beyond their years. They were cocky, confident, and ruthless when going after something they wanted. Soraya could respect that. What she couldn't respect was the fact they were fucking bullies, they're favorite target being none other then her Shelly.

And that just wouldn't stand.

Having pushed their hair over their faces in an effort to imitate the youngest Godfrey, they were in for a surprise when they they flipped it back.

"Hahaa-eh!" Their laughter was cut short by a squeak. Soraya's cold eyes made the girls still in front of her. Standing nearly a foot taller than them in her heels, the all black dressed beauty stood unmoving in the center of the hallway. An imposing stature that, paired with her icy gaze, made the girls' breath catch. Suddenly faced with an unwavering stare that held such disgust, the girls seemed to shrink under her gaze.

That was the difference between them. Soraya was a bitch, but an equal opportunist bitch. The twins were just bullies, preying on the weak and odd ones out. When faced with someone who was neither, they shrunk back to the timid girls they were.

Tucking her hair back nervously, Alexa, the meeker of the two, cast her eyes to the floor and mumbled out a 'Sorry.'

"What did you do to me?" Soraya's face fell into sympathetic confusion before suddenly turning hard. "It's her you should be apologizing to. And you will. _Today._ Before I have to look at you again." The twins exchanged a glance, obviously in a silent fight about who was to blame for this, but Soraya didn't care. They had targeted Shelly and distracted her from her target. Neither was a very smart choice. Her smile may have been friendly but her eyes held murder. "Scurry", she whispered. And the girls did just that.

 _Now back to her mission._..

"You're new, aren't you?" The new boy seemed to jump out of his skin, turning quickly to the source of the question. It was her, the girl from the front of the school. He gave her the same once over she had him. Long, straight, bronze colored haired somewhere between golden blonde and red. Heart shaped face that didn't have a single imperfection other than the beauty mark above the corner of her lips. However, it was her eyes that stood out most. They were weird. Beautiful, but weird. A dark circle of blue surrounded an inner mixture of yellow and green with flecks of brown. Her eyes seemed almost predatory as she looked into his own before letting them slowly trail downwards.

"Yeah." He scratched his jaw nervously. _Was she Upir like her friend?_ She didn't feel like it. Then again she didn't exactly feel _normal_ either.

Suddenly her hand was at his neck, warm soft fingertips barley brushing against his throat before they moved down and gripped the cord of his necklace. Peter's breath caught, his chest stilling as she leaned in to examine the talisman. Thumb stroking over the interesting design, she finally noticed that he was holding his breath. Soraya hummed interest as she lifted her head, lips not to far away from his. "Soraya." She informed him quietly, sultry eyes flipping to innocent interest as she smiled. "Yours?"

He finally breathed, her fragrant skin making his tongue twist before he collected himself. "Peter." His eyes glanced around the emptying hallway, trying to regain some thought.

"Peter..." She said it slowly, testing it as if she'd never said the name before. "Simple. I like simple." Her gaze once more turned predatory, her hand grazing his chest as it fell to her side. Her red painted lips turned up in a friendly smiled as the warning bell rang. "Don't be a stranger, Peter."

Dazed and entranced, he watched as Soraya strutted away. His attention shifting lower to watch her hips sway back and forth before suddenly stopping.

He glanced up to see she had stopped in front of a classroom. More accurately, in front of the Upir kid holding the door open for her. _Shit._

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, smirking mischievously before entering the class. That didn't make Peter feel any better. The Upir kid's eyes were trained on him a few seconds longer before Soraya's already recognizable hand shot back out to grab him by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into class.

It was right then that Peter Rumancek knew this girl was trouble.

And anyone who knew of the Rumanceks, knew trouble had a taste for them.. **.**

* * *

He had over half his classes with Soraya and her Upir friend, but after her blunt introduction, neither had so much as spared a glance his way. But just because Peter didn't speak to them didn't mean he didn't find out about them. One of the more fearless students called him out for staring at Soraya, quickly informing him that she was not one to chase after because the boy sitting next to her was none other than Roman Godfrey, billionaire heir to Godfrey industries. Even he told Peter that his time was better spent staying away from them.

That night, Peter returned to the trailer he shared with his mother. Though small in size, their new home was filled with comfort and warmth, something Peter had severely missed after his day. Sitting around their small kitchen table, the air of them room was relaxed and happy. It just made it that much more difficult for Peter to break. After recanting the easier parts of his day, Peter took the opportunity to use the lull in the conversation to confess the most interesting (and unsettling) thing he had learned today. "So there's this kid at my school..." He began uneasily. "...He's an Upir."

His mother Lynda froze, brown eyes narrowing in concern as she leaned back in her seat. "An Upir?" Her voice had immediately took on a tone of worry.

Peter was quick to try and reassure her. "Yeah, but I don't think he knows it himself." When her brown eyes remain fixed on him, he tried to change the topic. "He has a sister, she isn't upir. I don't know what she is." He chuckled. "But she is so big, she fills up a doorway!" Her kindhearted boy's eyes lite up, excitement overtaking his tone. "And then there's this other girl, I think a cousin or something. She's... different too. Not Upir but..." He shook his head, excitement wavering to sympathy as he thought about how she had stood up for the giant of a girl. Obviously it happened often. "They're the Godfreys." He frowned in sympathy. He knew Christina was running around spreading the rumor of his lycanthropy (among other little stories that _were_ completely false), but the stories he heard of the Godfreys were worse. Not so much in their content but in the fact there wasn't a class or period that went by where someone wasn't looking at, pointing at, or talking about the Godfreys' youth. Roman was secretly a freak, Shelly was a monster from Godfrey's secret lab, Soraya was a leader of a polygamist cult, their cousin was actually an undercover agent, on and on the stories went. And yet, the students still smiled flirtatiously and eagerly volunteered to be partners with them. "That family seems fucked up."

"The Godfreys are my business. Stay away from them." Lynda warned. Her sweet little honey bun had a heart of gold, and she had a feeling it would win out against his better judgment. Friend or foe, the Godfreys weren't safe for him.

Peter paused only a moment before nodding. The strict tone in his usually soft spoken mother made him gulp. She was serious. "I am." He bobbed his head.

Again, looking for it or not, trouble had a way of finding a Rumancek. And a few miles away, it was gathered around a table of it's own discussing him...

* * *

Having gone over the usual spew of who had which classes and the gossiping of teachers old and new, a silence fell over the Godfrey dinner table.

Unlike the Rumancek household, the Godfrey's dining room table was long and large, separating the four occupants with feet between them. Each evening meal was a formal affair, and god help them if one of the children used the wrong fork, knife, or spoon in their three course meal. For Roman it came easy, nimble hands picking up salad forks and changing to dinner forks then desert forks without even glancing at the options. One advantage to his life time of fine grooming, Soraya guessed.

For the others, like herself and Shelly, it was a source of exasperation. Shelly had never really picked up on the art and every time a new meal was served she either spared a glance to what Roman would pick up or she risked the taut-taut-taunting of her mother and Olivia's snide looks until finally she picked the right utensil.

Thank god Soraya was there to distract their mother as Roman smoothly showed her which fork to grab.

Stabbing at her steak with the fish fork, Soraya could have sworn she saw Olivia's eye twitch even from across the table. Good, she smirked. The settled silence was broken by the matriarch first. "Have we got anything more enlightening to report from our first day at school?"

Roman spared a glance at at Soraya before tuning his attention to his mother. There was a hesitance in his tone."There's this new kid. He's a gypsy. This girl's been spreading all these crazy rumors about him. I think he's related to that guy, Vince. The one who lived in the trailer by the river."

"Actually I think they're the ones that moved into it." Soraya's window had overlook the woods in which the mobile home was placed. The light of it stood out like a little dot in the otherwise dark wooded area. For weeks after the former resident's death, the area stayed dark. And then in the middle of summer it stopped. "Powder blue trailers are so the rage for a gypsy werewolf on the go." Soraya smiled into her glass of wine. Shelly gave a smile in return, equally finding the rumors of the gypsy boy's supposed lycanthropy a ridiculous joke.

Sadly, not everyone at the table found it funny. For some reason the nonchalant guess caused Olivia to lash out. Throwing her fork onto her plate, her face twisted in disgust. "Filth." She whispered into the stunned silent room. Hands threading together, she stared intently at a spot on the table.

This time it was Soraya who broke the silence. "He's very handsome for filth."

If there was ever a time Roman feared his mother would actually kill Soraya, it was the moment her black eyes snapped up to her. _Shee-it_...

* * *

Olivia's bad mood seemed to be spreading through the Godfrey children the next morning. Lying his his bathtub, not even Soraya's appearance seemed to snap Roman out his permanent frown.

"Weed _and_ coke before breakfast? Someone's in a mood." Soraya licked her fingers and swiped it across the finely cut powder as Roman leaned back in his bath and blew smoke rings. Shedding her robe, she stepped into the warm bathwater across from him, her petite foot sliding up his long legs till it reached his lap. _A mood indeed_ , Soraya thought frowning when his eyes remained on the ceiling on the only response to her administrations was a semi-hard cock. "Your mother threw a fork at my head last night and _I'm_ the one being punished?" Her eyes widened in comical shock. Roman's eyes closed with a frown, actively ignoring her. He would be dealing with his mothers bitching for weeks after their spat last night. Her plucked brow furrowed in aggravation as he perked up at the sound of a car rolling in on the back gravel. Without a glance spared towards her, the boy stood and walked to the window. A insincere huff left her lips. "Shit. So it's finally happened. I've become so beautiful I've become invisible to the human eye."

Nothing.

At this point Soraya was beginning to loose her calm facade. Standing up, she swiftly joined him at the window, standing on her tiptoes to peak over his broad shoulder at whatever it was that had captivated his interest.

It was no one of great importance, just his uncle Norman. And the only time Norman came up here was to scold someone. "Ooh, somebody's in trouble." She sang. With a roll of her eyes she plucked the blunt from his hand and walked back to her robe.

Noticing her quick departure, Roman finally turned his attention to her. "Where are you going?"

"So it _can_ see me!" Soroya pulled on the thin silk garment. "To get dressed. If you won't adore me, I'll find a crowd who will." She flicked the finished joint into his bathwater.

"Don't be so fucking sensitive." Roman caught her arm, swinging her back into his wet chest. His lips moved over her neck, hand gripping her throat with light pressure as he told her to stop fucking pouting. A few moments later she found herself lifted onto the bathroom counter, back against the cold mirror and legs thrown over Roman's hips while he gave her his _full_ attention.

* * *

Radio turned up, traffic clear, and a wonderful ache still between her legs, Soraya pulled into the Hemlock High Student parking lot earlier then she was used to. Preoccupied by odd sight of couples and groups seemingly in tears, she didn't notice her music had stopped for a breaking news update until a familiar names came through the speakers.

" _-Brooke Bluebell, 17, a student attending Penrose High School. Bluebell was last seen leaving school yesterday afternoon, and her car was reportedly discovered near the crime scene. Officials are refusing to speculate on the cause of death, but eyewitnesses suggest the ferocity of the attack suggests an animal may have been responsible. Officials are asking for anyone who may have seen any suspicious behavior in the park area to contact the sher-_ " Soraya's hand slammed against the radio, turning of the newscasters voice. A cold sense of shock filled her veins as a she remembered the last time she had seen Brooke Bluebell...

It had been just another summer party. Same music, same people, same boredom consuming her. Harold, their usual drug supplier had saved the night for them.

After that, most of the night had been a cocaine fueled blur. She and Roman had been content in their little dark corner, playing a game of fuck, suck, or kill when they had noticed a Penrose football player pushing up on a girl a little to forceful for their liking.

Roman had acted as the knight in shining armor while Soraya played the dark temptress. Brooke, like so many others, fell under their combined spell. A few hits of coke, a couple of kisses, and a bit of dirty dancing later and the three found themselves in the upstairs master suite having a part of their own.

It was a hazy memory after that but one thing she did remember was how Brooke had snuck into the bathroom while Roman was out on the balcony smoking. As Soraya stepped out of the shower, Brooke turned to her with the biggest grin and confessed their night had given her the courage to ask her summer school teacher out. There was this sense of giddiness on Brook's face as she said it. This look people get only once int heir life: the moment they realize other peoples opinions don't mean shit. Soraya had been there for that moment of pure freedom from persecution.

Yet just three weeks later Brooke was dead. If that wasn't a buzz kill, she didn't know what was.

* * *

While it was ahead of her usual seduction schedule, Soraya was in need for a distraction from the blubbering masses. With Roman having not yet arrived and her normal hand around as weepy as the rest of them, the bronze haired beauty sought out her new toy to play with. If she was paying better attention to the whispers she wouldn't have been as nearly surprised stumbling across Peter's situation. Christina Wendall and the Sworn twins weren't even whispering as they openly accused Peter of murdering Brooke Bluebell.

"Bet he knows something about it."

"Gypsy creep!"

Whatever she was expecting to come from the younger girls' mouths that was not it. Seeing Peter trying to shrink himself into a corner reminded her of Shelly and the habit to defend overtook her. Standing between the crowd of accusing Sophomore girls and the accused Senior, Soraya spread her arms wide and motioned for them to fuck off. "Scurry bitches, scurry!" She waved the pesks away for the second day in a row. The Sworn girls had grown from a small nuisance to a persisting problem over the course of a summer.

Once they had retreated to gossiping out of sight, Soraya turned her attention back to Peter. In seeking him to save her she somehow managed to save him. "Well, aren't you making all sorts of friends." She joined him in his little corner by the lockers. Peters mood didn't seem to improve by her presence. _Huh, it seemed she was losing her touch._ Recalculating her approach she went with a gentler touch. "Did you know that Pennsylvania has more hate groups per capita out of any state in the country?" Peter's large brows furrowed as he look at her with a sense of confusion. "So don't think you're special just because your the target of the week." She smiled warmly, her predatory eyes genuinely soft as the glanced over his troubled face. The little bit of care she showed made them seem a darker blue. He thought she was prettier when they were that dark blue...

Scratching the underside of his jaw, he remembered what he had promised his mother. Stay away from the Godfreys. But walking away now after she had helped him just seemed fucking rude. So instead he tried to turn the tables. "I can't imagine you talking to me is going to help your reputation."He attempted to give her a way out.

Soraya only laughed, scrunching her face and nose as she to suppress the full-belly laughter threatening to escape. It came out as an unattractive chortle and snort, Soraya covering her mouth and letting her hair cover her face as she attempted to control her fit of laughter. Whatever help she had given him had gone to shit now as nearby mourners stared at them in shock. He readjusted the bag over his shoulder wishing she had walked away when he gave her the chance. _Oh this was helpful,_ he bitterly thought. _  
_

"You think I give a fuck about them?" Her head reared back to show the laugh still stretching her lips. "Jesus, look at them." She spun to motion to the vast sea of crying and somber students. "Crying and blubbering like they're grandma got run over holding a box of puppies. Most these fuckers are the same ones that either spread rumors about her. Even more of them didn't even know her at all!" She slammed her back against the wall beside him, body still trembling from a fit of giggles.

 _What the fuck was wrong with this girl?_ The question was on the tip of his tongue, but as usual his stupid manners won out. Instead he asked, "What was she like?"

Leaning closer to him she smirked. "She was fucking her summer school physics teacher.", came in a hushed whisper.

"Wha-what does that have to with anything?" His brow furrowed.

Shrugging she raised her voice to it's normal octave. "It doesn't." Her pale eyes glanced around the mourners before snapping back. "Other than that, she was decent. Liked kids. Volunteered with them. Smart." Her hands pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her bag, sharp stiletto nails tapping against the pack. "No great lose to humanity as a whole but decent enough to be missed." Soraya's blue eyes scanned the crowd, the smile completely gone from her face. "But if the rest of the school knew that we both know those tears and forced whimpers would turn to petty laughs and hushed whispers faster than you could say slut." Peter didn't have to ask if she knew the victim. The bitterness in her gaze and sharp honesty in her tone telling him all he needed to know.

Just as he was about to offer his condolences her head snapped back in his direction. Intrigue was sparked in her eyes. "Speaking of rumors…"

Peters eyes rolled without his consent, "Is is true?", he finishes for her.

But Soraya paused, breathing in before letting out a quick and blunt "No.", surprising him. He looked at her with equal curiosity.

"I wanna know _why_ she thinks that." Her sharp nails tore open the seal of the package, the need for a smoke making her fingers twitch. All these fucking criers were making her skin itch...

Peter hesitated but didn't see a reason why not. "My fingers." He held up the two fingers of equal length. "Apparently it's a mark of a werewolf." He wiggled them. One thing he already knew about Soraya was that she had no problem with physical touch. Before he could blink, one hand gently gripped his wrist while the other grasped the fingers. God her touch was warm.

She examined the fingers carefully, her thumb and forefinger each gripping a side as she moved them up and down. Whether she meant it or not, the act was suggestive and sent a pang of lust to his belly.

She meant it.

Her smile twisted into a smirk as he cleared his throat, shifting his stance nervously. The girl paused momentarily to look up at him. Licking his lips, shifting stance, avoidance of eye contact...growth in his pants...Oh she _so_ had him...

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" She feigned innocence, running her smooth fingertip over his jumping pulse point.

"Talking to me? Won't your bother be angry?"

She looks befuddled but then chuckled. "I'm not a Godfrey, babe. I'm a Harman." She dropped his hand in order to readjust her bag with one and place the other on his shoulder. "And as for sparkling reputations-" Her red stained lips moved against his ear. "I don't have one either." She whispered. Whether Peter knew it or not, Soraya Harman had her hooks in him. He couldn't tear his eyes away as her face lit up with a flirty grin. "See you around, blue eyes."

The werewolf couldn't help the little smile that reached his face for the first time that morning.

Peter knew Soraya Harman was trouble, he just didn't care.

After-all, he had promised to stay away from the Godfreys, and Soraya Harman was no Godfrey...

* * *

Four fucking hours. Four hours of teachers recommending they share their feelings. Four hours of girls blubbering and boys shaking their head sadly. Four hours of the entire fucking school acting like their parents had been gutted in some mass culling rather then a girl from another school was killed by some animal.

The worst part of it all? Everyone seemed to know just who exactly really knew her. Three of these such people being Soraya Harman and the Godfrey children.

"The next person that asks me how I'm doing is getting punched in the tit." Soraya let her bag fall off her shoulder to the floor. "Speaking of which, how you doing?" Roman glared at her actual concern, expecting better from the ruthless bitch she played. They knew her, they fucked her, she was dead. Life moved on... Shrugging, he took her extended hand and situated her onto his lap. Here on the top floor, the smoke detector had been disabled since Roman could remember. It was in this dead end corner at the top of the staircase that Roman came to do business and catch a smoke between classes. Currently situated on the thick railing, he maneuvered Soraya with little care, holding her steady with one arm around her stomach to keep her anchored to him. Tumbling those four flights down might do a bit of damage.

"What are we doing?" She asked, fiddling with the buttons on his blazer cuff. His other hand crossed over her chest, brushing the hair off her shoulder in order to examine her skin. The smooth surface he had cut the other day was completely healed. Not a single mark marred her skin.

"Waiting for Harold." Harold. A twice time senior who supplied the majority of their drugs.

"Looking for a party tonight? I hear her memorial ceremony over at Penrose is going to be legendary." She stole the cigarette from his lips, drawing a few drags before placing it back between his plush lips.

"I've dealt with enough crying girls today. Fuck that."

Harold arrived, cutting their conversation short. Eyes wandering, Soraya happened to glance upon a familiar pair of eyes staring up at them. Leaning over, she gave a knowing smile as he quickly averted his attention and walked out of sight.

Having finished his business transaction, Roman searched for what had Soraya's rarely caught attention. "What?"

"Just a little pop-up peak-a-boo with our new friend." She hopped off his lap.

Roman's tone took on an uncharacteristically hard tone. "You should stay away from him."

"You believe the rumors?" Blue eyes searched him in disapproval. Her usual casualness replaced by slight annoyance. She didn't like being told what to do by anyone.

The billionaire didn't exactly say one way or another, but just by pinch between his brows she knew on some part he did. "I don't trust him." Roman admitted, putting out his cigarette and flicking it to the floor. Grabbing his face with gentle hands, she tilted it up to give him a lasting kiss. Her tongue brushed the seam of this lips before suddenly pulling back.

"Lucky for me, I don't have to trust him to fuck him." Roman's face remained in it's stoic expression. _The miserable fuck._ Rolling her eyes, Soraya pressed her forehead to his, looking deep into his green eyes. "We're wolves, baby. Stop listening to the sheep." Pulling away she gently patted his face. "And don't do anything stupid..." Were her parting words as she grabbed her bag and headed off to yet another morose and weepy class.

She should have known he wouldn't listen...

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **HOLY SHIT! 10 more reviews and alerts then I was expecting XD Thank you guys so much! Any one interested in me writing the Roman/Soraya/Brooke night as a one shot? Let me know... Other then that, the next chapter is going to be out sooner than this one was, but it's not nearly as long. :) Upside? Roman x Soraya feels...  
**

 **And HUGE shout out to Brooklynn, Piper, and Bri, you girls are so fucking awesome and this story wouldn't be what it is without you just being there. XD**


	3. 1x02: Withdrawal (MA)

**-:I:-**

* * *

You'll need me and we can be obsessed  
And I can touch your hair and taste your skin  
The ghosts won't matter 'cause we'll hide in sin

-Kyla La Grange : Vampire Smile

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **The Angel  
**

 **Withdrawal  
**

* * *

"You did what?" Soraya turned on him so fast he heard something snap. Roman rolled his eyes as he continued to undress, letting her pace the length of the bathroom. "You told me you had a hangover, so naturally, as the compassionate and loving person I am, I took Shelly to that bullshit-hell-pit memorial service." Soraya stopped before his near naked frame.

"Yeah, a real saint." His brows furrowed in false sympathy. A sentence that, if not for his pounding head, he never would have said aloud.

Soraya stopped her pacing to strut over to him. There was a calm fury under her features, one) for mocking her, and two) for just dropping the bomb he had accused Peter Rumancek of murder before casually walking away.

Anyone who knew Soraya Harman knew that she was like the eye of a storm in her anger.

She was her calmest before she became her most destructive...

"Sweat, cum, blood, spit." She counted off on her fingertips before closing them into a fist and diving it into his chest. "You know those are the only bodily fluids I accept near me." She seethed before her voice entered that pitch that only most dogs could hear. "SNOT! I had people get their fucking snot on me, Roman!"

There were only three things in life that made Soraya nauseous. The color orange, teeth being pulled, and the runny substance that was currently on her (now burned) shirt shoulders. Knowing this, Roman couldn't help but chuckle. "Don't you fucking laugh!" She grabbed his discarded shoe and threw it back at him.

"Alright!" He yelled back, stepping into the shower. While he may have lied about his hangover before, his current migraine was very real. Wetting his hair, Roman let his head rest against the cool tiled wall as Soraya continued ranting about having to suffer through crying and sniffling and the disgusting runny noses that attacked her with their Boa like hugs and sniveling sympathies. "I mean, I only fucked her once. They act like I'm her -" Soraya stopped her tirade when she saw the disastrous state Roman was in. Shit...

His face was pinched with pain and his eyes twisted shut. Softening her voice she sat on the counter right outside the glass walled shower. She was too angry and curious to step in and offer his usual stress relief, but not angry enough to make him hurt more. With a softer voice she asked him to go over what exactly happened.

"I told you." He sighed, running his hands through his wet hair.

"No, you told me you found Peter at the playhouse and even though he denied it you think he knows who killed her. I feel you've left out _a lot_ of the story." Soraya began to draw pictures on the fogging mirror. "And speaking of holding back, what is this bullshit your mother's questioning me about Brooke."

Roman looked through the fogged glass to her shape. "What'd you tell her?"

"Same thing you did, of course. Lied and said we didn't know her. But why?"

"My mother doesn't need to know shit." He finalized that part of the discussion. Beginning to wash his hair he changed the conversation to something he knew she would like. Herself. "He asked about you."

"Did he?" There was a distinguishable tone of excitement that she was attempting to hide. Failing, but attempting all the same.

"He asked about Shelly too..."

"Shelly's not trying to fuck him." She huffed under her breath as she picked at his discarded Jacket. Maroon was smudged on the dark blue cuff, catching her attention. Yet another bad nose bleed, she guessed.

He got them often when he used his talent. Talent, trick, superpower. Neither quite knew what to call it. All they knew was that he could look into someones eyes, suggest something, and they'd do it. He didn't do it often, did it even less when he started getting nosebleeds, but other than a few exceptions, there didn't seem to be a single person that could resist one of Roman's suggestions when his green orbs were locked with theirs.

Soraya herself happened to be such exception. Probably one of the reasons Roman liked her so much. When he looked into her eyes and asks if she wanted to do something, her response of yes was always genuine. Roman didn't have a lot of that in his life. The curse of being powerful, rich, and handsome she supposed...

"Really, you used your Jedi mind trick on them?" She spit on the cuff, rubbing the saliva into it in an attempt to undo the stain.

"I told you I took care of them, didn't I?" He spared her a peek.

"In front of Peter?" Roman didn't comment. The absence of an answer, answer enough. "Jesus fucking Christ! Ro...what the fuck?!"

"The cops wouldn't fuck off. I didn't have a choice!"

"Hey, Ro, one way to avoid having to explain you presence at a murder scene is by _not going to the fucking murder scene_!" She yelled at him.

"And what did Peter do when he saw you?"

"Ran off." Roman shrugged. Turned off the shower, he took the towel Soraya tossed him.

"No, shit. It would creeped me out too."

"Says the crazy bitch who set herself on fire." He retorted.

"Hey! I didn't set myself on fire, asshat. I walked into a fire already lit."

"Wasn't any less traumatizing!" He scoffed back.

"Didn't stop you from fucking me against the tree." Her voice softened, a little smile gracing her features as her hungry eye scanned over his wet body. Roman gave his own eye roll, as he continued to wipe the towel over his skin. As her little fingers danced over his shoulders, not even he could stop from smiling. "Mmm, remember that tree? The splinters in my back were worth it." Her hands stroked down his arms, stopping at his hands and making him drop the towel.

His wet hair covered his face as he looked down at her kissing his chest, lower and lower until she feel to her knees. He brushed back the hair from his face, eyes closing in pleasure as he felt her lips encase his tip.

If she wanted a repeat of the tree, he'd be sure to give it to her...

* * *

"Fuck. Oh fuck." Soraya threaded her hands through Roman's damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp when all she wanted to do was tear at it.

Roman Godfrey had few natural god given talents. Thankfully eating pussy was one. His lips enclosed over her clit, softly sucking it as his tongue ran over the pink pearl. Soraya's hips bucked, her hands tightening their grip on the silky strands while he continued his ministration. He was a heaven sent sociopath, she had decided. Bringing her to the edge but backing off at the slightest sign of her climax. His nimble fingers slid deep, curling as he stroked in and out of her wet heat. His other hand was preoccupied with her breast, gentle messaging the flesh and tweaking the nipple every time she cursed at him.

The evil son of a bitch.

"Shit!" She groaned when he backed off for the third time, his fingers stilling as he placed kisses over her inner thighs and mound. "Fuck, please, Roman!" The way she said his name like that, it sent shivers down his spine. Soraya's voice cracked and raised to the point it squeaked. Deciding she'd have enough, this time Roman didn't let up, his lips and tongue moving in synch as his hands continued to massage her breast. Fucking magic fingers he had. Her body tensed and convulsed, finally reaching her long awaited end.

"You're cute when you beg." Her mumbled as he kissed his way up her still trembling body.

"Asshole." She huffed, wrapping her legs around his hips. His fingers wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head as he entered her with ease. Soraya gave out little whimpers that made him grin against her damp skin, his second release of that night coming faster then he'd thought as she muttered his name incoherently like a prayer.

It was really more of a curse.

The headboard gently hit the wall, the force of his thrusts intensifying. And for their second time that night they were reduced to shaky limps and weak muscles. Roman relished in the feeling of her wet walls tightening around him, milking him for all he was worth, he felt it only enhance his own sensation. Roman's forehead collapsed into the pillow besides her head, knowing she didn't mind his weight on her. There was a small stretch of silence between them, the huffing and puffing of breath the only thing exchanged between them as she ran her nails over his back and through his hair. Roman was becoming drowsier and thus heavier. Soraya hit his ass for him to roll over. She liked the weight of a person stretched over her, the dead weight of a person not so much...

Running her hands over her face, Soraya took a minute to calm herself, the cool air from the room hitting her bare skin like a bucket of ice water.

The smell of a lit cigarette hit her nose.

"Winston?" She peaked from between her fingers at the cigarette held out inches from her face.

"Full flavor." He assured. Tossing the box over to her.

A grin lit up Soraya's face, eagerly taking the nicotine as she rolled into him. Roman's arm easily found it's place around her. "Where the fuck did you get this?"

Hemlock Grove left a lot to be desired, but the one thing she took as a personal affront was the fact not a single fucking shop seemed to sell her preferred brand of smokes.

"Had Harold look for them."

"Harold! Why didn't I think of that?" She tisked herself. Harold had access and connections to all kind of shit. Cigarettes just seemed too small a pie for him to have his fingers in to as well.

A satisfied silence overcame them as they smoked. However, while Soraya was in a state of content bliss, Roman's mind was turning.

Soraya was...comfortable. Relaxing even. When she ran her hands through his hair, when he smelt her fragrant skin, when she smirked at him…it calmed him in a way other people just couldn't. The idea he'd be without that, even for a short time, made his face itch.

Soraya had this little rule. When she found a new interest she always put a hold on their fling till she tired of the new toy. She encouraged Roman to abide by this same rule every once and awhile. But while Soraya could last weeks with a new fling, Roman found himself surprised if he lasted week _ends_. His own secrecy about his fetishes making it impossible to seek the satisfaction he did with her. Luckily it was a simple truth that Soraya Harman's interest was not easily kept...

The idea it'd be months longer before he felt this way again had him scratching at his neck.

Cigarette finished, Soraya placed a grateful kiss to his shoulder before rolling away. Roman watched as she sat up and stretched. He was had always been entranced by the muscles and curves of her form. His fingers skimmed over her back, following from one sparse mole to the other. Sitting up, his lips pressed gentle kisses along the skin as his hand slid over her shoulder and pulled her back to his chest. Pinched her chin he turned her head, lips met hers in a lazy yet bruising kiss. Possessive...

Soraya wrangled out of his embrace, gently nudging him to lay back on his elbows.

"How long?" He looked over the curves of her.

Roman didn't need to clarify on what he meant. "Weeks, maybe a couple months." She shrugged, brushing her hair back. "Hopefully I can get a least a few months out of him." She smiled at him over her shoulder, the curves of her lips relaxing when she notices him blowing smoke rings.

Eyes scanning over his angular face, she notices a distinct unpleasantness underlying there. Whatever it was sent a pang of guilt through her center, so with a reassuring smile she grabbed his tightly pinched face in her hands and reminded him of yet another simple truth. "Don't I always come back to you?" Her nose ran down the slope of his, the cartilage bending together as she placed a firm kiss to his lips.

Soraya rolled away once more and this time Roman didn't try and stop her. Sitting up, he shuffled back to the headboard. As he watched her step into the shower, he couldn't help but wonder why this time it felt different...

* * *

Months passed with no new answers or leads in the Bluebell killing. As time passed, the sleepy town of Hemlock Grove once more took on it's usual cycle. Everything was returning to normal. Well almost everything...

The mid October afternoon was surprisingly pleasant at the Hemlock Grove country club. While the pool was a bit to chilled for most people's taste, it was perfectly refreshing to Soraya. Doing a few laps in the outside pool, Soraya loved the feel of the cold water on her usually warm feeling skin. Red small red bikini caught the attention of many sitting around the upper deck eating lunch. Stopping for a sip of water, she noticed a giant figure waving at her.

Motioning to Shelly she'd be right up, she did once last lap back to her sunglasses and towel before heading up. Roman met her at the bottom of the stairs, his green eyes narrowed, and his lips turned up in a lecherous grin as he looked her up and down. The bikini was doing little to hide her figure and curves.

"Love the color." He commented as she dried her hair. The dark red color matching the matte stain on her lips and made her skin seem paler than it was. The blood red color was doing something for him.

"You should. I bought you a sweater in the same shade." She led him up the stairs to the dining deck. Behind her, Roman grimaced, never really one for colors that drew attention.

"I don't know why I expected you to dress civilly for a meal." Olivia commented after sparing her a single glance. Soraya gave her a finger as she laid down the towel over the plush chair, taking a seat between the bitch of the ball and her son.

"I think you get off on the disappointment."

"Twit."

"Bitch."

Their friendly mutual hatred was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress. Jenny, one of their usual servers and a favorite of the teens, exchanged friendly smiles with all. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Godfrey, what I help you with today?" Roman's mother placed her order, quick, and sharp, with no room for misunderstanding or friendly banter. Roman, as per usual engaged in light flirtation with the waitress before finally placing his order, Jenny then turnign her attention to Shelly. Her cloth wrapped hands ran over the menu before stopping and tapping at what she wanted.

"Is that what you want, honey? Salad?"

Olivia was quick to correct the girl. "No, no. Her usual will be quite satisfactory."

Soraya and Roman exchanged glances with each other and then with the women, expecting Shelly to silently pout as Olivia tried to ignore it. They were pleasantly surprised when after a moment of silence, Shelly stared straight at her mother and forcefully tapped the menu again. Her vocal cords strained in her throat, a frustrated groan escaping as her way of arguing.

"Darling, you must eat your meat." Olivia could smile and whisper all she wanted but the controlling undertone was still unmistakable. A tension filled the table and Roman took it upon himself to break it.

"If you're that worried, Soraya could show her how. I know first hand she has a taste for it." Jenny tried to cover a smirk at the off-colored remark. Soraya straightened a single finger from her grip on the menu, her own smirk furthering to make Olivia more cross.

"Oh, now, she's just thinking about her figure. All those cute boys in high school." Jenny rubbed Shelly's shoulder affectionately. If Jenny had seen the look in the mother's eyes, she wouldn't be so quick to smile.

"Her usual will be _quite_ satisfactory." She strained. Shelly closed a fist and banged it on the table, making Soraya put down her menu and her mother flinch in her seat.

Born mute, Shelly tried to open her mouth, willing the words of rebellion Soraya could see dancing behind her eyes to come out for the world to hear. Instead, the under developed chords let out another weaker groan, her parted mouth letting out a trail of drool.

Roman looked at his sister with such compassion and pride, taking his napkin he reached over and gently whipped the line of saliva from her mouth. With a wink he sat back, and Shelly couldn't help but feel more confident and empowered as she saw two of the most important people to her gaze at her with beaming pride. Her mother backed down, literally and figuratively, as she sat back in her seat.

Wanting to end this ridiculous yet oh so important fight, Soraya handed over her menu and had the final say. "She'll have the salad. _I'll_ have the steak." Glancing at Roman she smiled in mischief. "I should stalk up on meat, I don't think I'll be having it for a while."

The spoon Roman had been twirling between his fingers stopped. His proud smirk turning into a defeated smile.

He had a feeling there was no escaping that sweater now...

* * *

Never one for schoolwork, Roman was actually surprised when they stepped into their Chemistry lab and Soraya nearly glowed. Truth was she was more of doer then a listener, and with Senior Chemistry came an entire lab of fun goodies to touch and fiddle with. Engrossed with her experiment, she was oblivious to one Peter Rumancek's gaze.

The gypsy boy had been good keeping his distance from the two of them, but the classes they had together were un-ignorable. Another thing he couldn't ignore? Soraya Harman.

She festered in his head like an infection. Weeks of smiles in passing, coy brushes in the crowded halls, stretching and bending and just being near him piled up in his head until he found himself unable to keep his gaze from searching her out.

Settled across the room, his partner happily ignored his existence, as he continued to haphazardly take notes and watch Soraya.

There was an adorable joyfulness on her face as she fiddled with the supplies, a stark contrast to her board and nearly unresponsive partner.

Roman doodled on the sheet of paper before him, head rest on his fisted hand as he let Soraya do her thing. The teacher sat at the front of the class, letting the children copy notes from the textbooks and do the recommended example experiments as he continued his eBay bid. His disregard for the class left it in mild anarchy, most of the partners separating and switching to talk to their friends in small huddles.

Standing on her tips toes, Soraya's short skirt ride up, exposing more of the lose fishnet stalkings that decorated her legs. Roman's attention was caught by a passing cheerleader walking by their table for the sixth time in ten minutes. Following the forced sway of her hips he caught sight of Peter's trance-like state. The gypsy boy didn't seem to notice he was being stared at back, too focused on Soraya's light sway as she focused.

Don't ask him why he did it. Even if he knew he'd never admit it. Seeing Peter's continuous glances at her Roman lower his hand to the back of Soraya's calf and slowly began moving it upwards. Her standing position besides his sitting one, made it easy to discreetly play with her in the near empty back of the class. For a while, Peter showed no signs of noticing until she bit her pierced lip in an effort not to hum. Wondering what made her face change, he looked down to find Roman's hand disappeared under the high skirt. The gentle movement of his arm was all Peter needed to know. Face feeling warm, he redirected his concentration on his text book.

It wasn't until she cleared her throat and asked to use the bathroom that he had the nerve to look up again. Whatever he was expecting, meeting Roman Godfrey's stare was not it. Peter's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth, the Upir not moving his gaze as he too asked to use the restroom a few minutes later.

He had a feeling he had just been warned.

At this point he was pretty sure Soraya Harman was going to get him killed.

Peter drummed his pencil against his notebook picture all the way it might very well be worth it...

* * *

Roman didn't have to look far to find just where exactly Soraya had snuck off to. In the empty hallway only one door remained ajar. Slipping into the abandoned classroom, he had only a moment to close the door behind him before she was tearing at his stupid red sweater. "Don't ever do that again." She glowered, lifting the sweater and undershirt from his body.

"You fucking love it." He smirked, clearing the wooden desk in one swoop of the arms. She loved the added thrill of being caught...

"Fingering me in class? No problem." She removed her shirt, Roman lifting her up to the desk and crawling up after her. Plush lips trailing her body, he grabbed his hair and roughly jerked it back. "Trying to fucking claim me? Don't. Ever." She added, running her sharp nails roughly down his chest. Roman flinched just lightly as she released his hair. Obviously she wasn't nearly as assignment focused as she led him to believe.

Roman pulled down her stockings as she undid his belt and pants. She bit at his shoulder, scraping her teeth and nails against his flesh in punishment as he entered her rough and hard. His fingers stroking over the seam of her panties had left her wet enough. There were no gentle touches, and sweet kisses. It was hard and fast, teeth meeting teeth and nails meeting flesh. They held nothing back. The desk screeched gently against the floor as the sound of flesh quickly hitting together coupled with moaning and gasping filled the empty room.

As the bell rang overhead, Soraya quickly reassured him the class had been canceled and not to dare stop now.

As the hallway filled with busy footsteps and chatter, only one student heard the ruckus happening inside. A woman's loud moan made the boy stop in his tracks. The sound continuing for a few moments longer before the room went still. Peter tried to look inconspicuous as he looked around the barley populated hallway. The door was swung open before he could decide what to do.

Soraya came face to face with Peter as she brushed back her hair. He seemed just as surprised as she was, but unlike him, she recovered quickly. Eyes lowering to a smolder, and lips turning into a smirk, she gently cupped his face as she passed. "Morning, blue eyes." Her hand lingered, pulling his attention after her as she walked away.

Roman passed by of his peripheral vision, head turning to glance at him over his shoulder before continuing back to class.

 _Yeah. She was definitely going to kill him._..

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 ** **I know this wasn't my strongest chapter yet but it set up the next one so it had to be done. :) Thank you to the newbies and the veterans of this story (especially my usual fab four), your reviews and alerts keep this story going! Up next we finally get to know Soraya's back story and get some sexy Seter time! (Sadly this means the end of Romaya smut for now. :/).  
****

 ** **PS:** Bitchkol has been amazing, making art and videos for this story you can find on my tumblr. (Piper, you know what you have to do now!) **


	4. 1x02: Tricks and Treats (MA)

**-:I:-**

* * *

Wasted bodies  
Lying oh so still  
So many lovers  
In need of organs

Phèdre : In Decay

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **The Angel  
**

 ** _Tricks and Treats_  
**

* * *

Two months.

Two months it had been since Soraya made it her personal mission to devour Peter Rumancek. The project that was supposed to last a week ended up lasting nine, and all because Roman had to scare him off.

Soraya couldn't be completely angry at him. After all, she had to admit she had never had to work so hard for a boys attention before. It just made every glance she caught that much more exciting.

But where Roman got her into this mess, he would soon prove to get her out of it...

Peter couldn't believe his fortune. Good or bad he couldn't decide, but on his way to his locker a familiar sound reached his ears. Blue eyes focused on the girls bathroom, the frosted glass and old oak distorting the view inside but doing nothing to keep in the pleasurable moans and sharp gasps from escaping.

He was quickly reminded of last week's surprise encounter. Peter looked around the quiet hallway, a sense of curiosity getting the better of him. What game was she playing at? He crouched down a bit and placed his ear to the glass.

" _Right there. Right there! Yes! Yes! Oh god, yes!_ " Soraya's voice was high and breathy, riding the rising wave of orgasm. Peter felt the hardening of his cock, hand placed against the glass to give him so balance as he listened. Caught up by the thought of her, he didn't notice her embodiment turning the corner ahead of him.

The clearing of a throat broke his attention, redirecting it to the two girls watching him on the other side of the hallway.

His attention moved over them briefly, one pale and blonde in light blue in yellow and the other tan and bronze haired in black and red. His eyes settled on Soraya second, his mouth slightly opening as he looked from her to the door and back. Realizing he had the wrong girl and noticing the disproving look her friend was giving him, Peter quickly stood straight and subtly stepped away from the door. "Uh..." He looked straight ahead trying to find some reasoning but finding none. "This is...this is exactly what it looks like." He copped up knowing there wasn't a single excuse he could use.

Soraya's friend glanced over him with a taste of uncertainty while Soraya's head bobbed along in mock understanding. His face might not of flushed but his ears felt on fire...

"I'll see you after lunch, Letha." Soraya dismissed her friend. The blonde girl glanced between the two of them before continuing on her way. Peter's gaze fell to the floor in embarrassment at being caught. Seeing red toed heels enter his field of vision he looked up. One thing he was quickly learning about Soraya was that she had no concept of personal space. Leaning against the door beside him, her cross arms held a sternness her smile contradicted. "Don't look so concerned. If she's making those noises it's a good thing." Her temple gently rested on the glass, listening in before widening her grin. "Roman." She confirmed he was at least half right.

The werewolf swallowed and accidentally asked, "How do you know that?"

"Oh, I _know_." Came a naughty but finite tone. One arm unfolded from their crossed position, reaching out to pull out his pendant once again. He'd always loved the color red and the vibrant color on her lips and low cut tee left him unable to tear his attention away. Her multicolored eyes were focused on his chest, her warm hand brushing against his chest. He wanted to step away and continue walking, to put as much distance as her could between them, but instead of asking her to stop, his tongue formed a question of it's own. "What are you two?"

Peter's brow was gently furrowed, as he observed her reaction. The fact her fingers had released his necklace and now gently laid on his skin, didn't go unnoticed by him. Looking up through her long lashes, she smirked. "Jealous?"

 _Yes_ , he desperate wanted to confess. The coy touches, the teasing glances, the friendly hello's, she had wormed her way into his brain and she. would not. stop!

Soraya gave a little shrug, index gently beginning to rub against the ball of his collar bone. "I'm a girl with needs and wants. He's a boy with needs and wants." She removed her hand from his person, Peter missing the warmth of it. "Sometimes we satisfy those needs and wants together."The moans continued, the shuttering of stall doors joining them. Peter and Soraya both looked towards the door, Peter's eyebrows jumping in surprise at the long feminine moan that was fallowed by a series of near bark. God, the girl sounded like a yippy poodle...

"But that hasn't happened in some time, turns out something new's caught my eye." Peter's mouth was dry as he met her predatory gaze once more. It was nearly as frightening as it was arousing. "Join me for lunch?" Soraya offered. She taped at the glass, hinting to what lay behind it."My usual company is otherwise occupied."

Peter knew he should have said no, offered a halfassed rain check and walked away. Peter wasn't known for making the safest choices.

A single nod sealed his fate.

* * *

Peter had grown used to being stared at by the rest of the students. Their hushed whispers, their accusing stares, trepidations body language...It was quickly loosing it's effect on him. But the attention he got sitting with Soraya Harman was something completely unexpected.

Sat on a hill overlooking the front school yard, he couldn't help but feel their eyes crawling over them. Jesus Christ, how the hell did she live like this?

The small pizza she had had delivered sat between them. An even more unhealthy, yet delicious, alternative to his usual vending machine lunch. Sitting back against the tree they situated themselves under, he tried to focus his attention on Soraya rather than her observers.

"You're not from here, are you?" Peter was the first to break the silence, unscrewing the bottle of pop he held.

Soraya cleaned her mouth of grease before answering. "What gave it away? My straight teeth? My clean lugs? My un-inbreed blood line?" Peter choked a laugh at the last one, wiping his mouth from the soda that had escaped. "I'm from Manhattan." She offered him a napkin he grateful took.

"New York City?" Peter whistled. "What's a pretty city girl like you doing in a little town like this?"

"My parents died."

Peter's charming grin dropped to a guilty and uncomfortable frown. Fucking hell. "Sorry." He looked down at his lap before glancing back at her. she seemed unperturbed. "Accident?"

"Nah. More like a do-in your spouse then do it yourself kinda thing." She tossed her crust in the box. Her ended appetite was the only sign of her not being thrilled with the topic.

"Shit."

"Yeah." Soraya took a swig from her own soda, continuing to look out at her crowd from behind her sunglasses. "I was on my way to this school in Seattle when I stopped here for a couple days. Met Roman and Shelly and they asked me to stay." She shrugged."Year later, here I am." She leaned back on her her elbows beside him, closing more and more space between them. Her sunglasses were pushed up as a headband and her desperate need to change the conversation turned her tone somewhat commanding. "Where the fuck are you from exactly?"

But Peter didn't take it personally. Leaning back like that with her head resting not far from his lap, her torso was stretched, her low cut top showing the top curves of her breasts. Peter quickly looked back to the grass before smiling mysteriously. "Little bit of everywhere."

Soraya gave a curious hum, letting herself drop her head onto Peter's crossed lap. Her eyes closed as she requested he tell her a story. When he remained frozen she turned her head towards him, and further into his lap. Blood rushed to his lap as her warm breath against his crotch elicited just the reaction she was looking for. Her coy question of "what?" didn't match well with the teasing glimmer in her eyes.

Peter had had enough. "Why are you doing this?"

Sensing his genuine discomfort, Soraya feared she had pushed him too far, too fast. "Doing what?" The little pinch between her furrowed brows was genuine.

"Talking to me. Aren't you afraid I'm going to turn into a wolf and tear you to little shreds?" His sarcasm was layered a little too thickly.

"Nope."

"Still doesn't answer why you're talking to me."

She sat up quicker then he expected, turning on her hip she closed the distance between them, face waiting just inches from his as her one hand rest on the ground for support and the other rested high on his thigh. Her usual pin straight hair had been curled into soft ringlets that day. A few of the shorter ones framed her face, tickling her parted red painted lips.

Peter could swear on Nicolae's soul the world around them froze for just a moment. Everything other than her faded into silence as a blunt question came from her lips. "Do you wanna fuck me, Peter?" Her blue-green eyes burned into his, baring him to try and lie. He didn't say yes, but he certainly wasn't saying no. Her lips curled into their signature smirk, her manicured hands slowly but noticeably running higher up his thigh until she felt it. Peter's eyes went somewhat glazed as it twitch under the light grab she gave it. His sharp intake of breath covered by her honey like voice. "I'm talking to you and befriending you because you have the eyes of a scared puppy and apparently coming right out and asking someone to fuck is a socially frown upon act. There, now it's out on the table."

"So again, I'll ask you: do you wanna fuck me?"

It wouldn't be until months later that Peter learned from eyewitness's that in fact he was the one to initiate the kiss.

All he could recall was one moment he was noticing the yellow in her eyes, the next his back was on the ground and Soraya's body rested over his. His hands tangled in her hair, felling the silky tresses that always captivated his attention as his mouth tried to keep up with hers. Peter was surprised to learn that for all her brashness and confidence, Soraya was a gentle kisser. Her plush lips were soft against his own, always the first to back away to make him give chase. She enjoyed the thrill of knowing he was hooked on her already. Anytime her lips moved more than a hair away from his, his head lifted up to follow. He wasn't quite ready for this dream to end...

One hand managed to free itself from her hair long enough to run down the curve of her back. He was rewarded by a slow thrust of her hips against his.

Only the shrill ringing of the bell broke them apart.

Soraya sat up, grinning as the eager puppy raised up with her. The distress in those blue orbs as she pressed a finger to his equally bruised lips, thrilled her. She had him hooked. And soon it would be time to reel him in...

His hand reached for her, silently begging her to stay as she got off him without a spare glance. Collecting her bag, Soraya smoothed her hair back before turning to ask him one last question. "Are you going to the dance tonight?"

Peter's lust ridden mind stalled, prompting her to say his name. _Awe, shit._ Was this one of those trick girl questions? Not knowing what she expected of him, he redirected the question back to her. "Are you?"

Her face scrunched in distaste. The older student body grinding, the freshmen class trying to hold hands, the chaperones killing any fun. It was a waste of her time... "Oh god no."

Peters face relaxed in relief. "No."

A wicked smile graced her features, a plan forming in her mind. "Good to know."

Breathing heavily and willing away his erection with the most disgusting of thoughts, Peter could only find one thing to say as she disappeared back into the moving crowd. "What the fuck just happened?"

* * *

Roman seemed intent on ruining her high. Having just popped an Oxy, Soraya washed it down with what was left of her tea. Roman, in a rare instance, managed to surprise her. As she choked slightly on the beverage, Roman leaned against the lockers besides her own, long fingers running over the metal edge as he stared intently at her. There was a sense of mischief in his eyes and she wanted in.

"What?" She cleared her throat.

Roman glanced around the hall casually. "Do you still have the key to the snake cage?" As a rare fellow snake owner, Soraya had volunteered to take the senior class's pet snake home every fourth weekend. It was her one redeeming quality in the eyes of their teachers...

"The one in the biology hallway? It's lying around my drawers somewhere."

"I need it."

"Why?"

"Does it matter?"

Soraya stopped her locker rummaging and tisked, pinching his sharp cheek. "Oh, I forget how snappy you get when you don't get what you want." She babied him. "It's so cute!" Roman gently slapped her hand away, rolling his eyes.

"Do you have it or not?" His voice was bordering on terse. His tone made Soraya close her locker with added force, a perfectly sculpted brow arching in suspect.

"You can have it. For a price...I have a surprise planned tonight." Soraya gently directed his chin to turn with her finger. "And you're going to help me..."

Roman's eyes focused in on the sight of his sister and the gypsy boy down the hall. A heavy exhale escaping his nose as he resigned himself to playing her game. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

Roman did good. "Very good." She took the piece of paper from his hand as she stepped out of the shower. Roman was already dressed to take Letha to the dance. His hair combed back, his leather loafers shined and his suit pressed, all that was missing was his black bow tie.

He watched her through the mirror with curious green eyes. Observing how she folded it carefully before tossing it to her counter. Towel dropping, she pressed her bare body to his suited one, her arms wrapping around him. "What kind of costume is this?" She pulled on on of the lapels. This wouldn't do for the Halloween homecoming at all.

"The only costume I'm ever wearing." He scoffed.

Raising onto her tiptoes, she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Hmm, if I didn't have plans." She mumbled against his neck. There was something about an expensive suit that fired her up.

Roman's eyes narrowed, frustration taking over as she pushed her fingers between his and tied it for him. Bracing his arms on the sink he sneered. "Why can't you go to this stupid thing?"

"I told you. I have plans. Gypsy boy is under my spell only for as long as you don't scare him off. I have to strike while I can. Besides-" She pushed off him, letting him begrudgingly admire the perfect bow. "Shelley dragged me to that memorial. It's your turn to play babysitter."

"Is that what your going as? Slutty babysitter?" He snipped back, watching her pull on the La Perla lingerie. Soraya threw her back in laughter, Roman following her into her large closet.

"Nah, I'm going the other direction, 'Coy sweetheart'." She plucked a rarely used sweater top from the back. The curved cropped stomach, long sleeves, and low V neck would pair nicely with a tight lace cami and some jeans. Holding up the cami and sweater she asked him to rank on a scale of one to ten how hard it would make him.

"Six."

"Liar. Eight." She threw the hanger at his stomach. Pulling on her outfit, she grabbed a pair of heals on her way past him. Once more, Roman followed.

"I still don't like this."

"I still don't care." Soraya began a light coat of make up. He made it hard to concentrate on her wingtips when he stood over her like that. A finger curled through a drying tendril, his nose burying itself in them. He missed the smell of her lately. With Letha pulling her away to go shopping, Shelly begging her to take her to school activities, adn Peter stealing her attention, Roman was beginning to feel neglected in the worst of ways.

And when Roman felt he was being forgotten, he liked to make his presence known.

When she turned her head to deflect his lips, his face fell. Grabbing the key left on the dresser, he stormed out. "Roman." Soraya called after him, her happy mood souring as he flipped her off.

 _He could be such a fucking child sometimes..._

But Roman wouldn't derail her plan.

An hour later, leaves crunched under her heeled feet. Closing the car door softly behind her, she observed the little junkyard they seemed to be living in.

"Charming." She huffed on her way down the unlit stairs that connected the roadway with their home.

The glow of the TV could be seen inside, and with his mothers car gone, she had the feeling she'd be able to skip the dinner offer and go straight to desert.

Soraya's fist hesitated before rapping quickly on the dingy door frame. She wished she had a camera to capture the look on his face when he opened the door. His jaw fell, his eyes widened, his feet shuffled.

 _An eight indeed._

She grinned. "Trick or treat."

"Huj-You-What are you doing here?" His nervousness just kept her smiling. "How did you know where I live?"

"Where else would a homicide werewolf live but a powder blue trailer in the woods?" She shrugged.

On his home turf and away from the masses, Peter seemed to have more confidence. "Hey now, this is clearly periwinkle."

Soraya hummed in faux thought before shaking her head. "No, that's a purple. But say periwinkle again…" She winked.

Biting his lip, Peter tried to stop his own smile as he stepped aside. "Do you...wanna come inside?"

"Pleasure to."

Clean. It was small, and retro, and sparsely decorated but the one thing she cared about was that it was clean. Peter offered her something to drink as he nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. He wasn't a nervous person by nature but fuck if Soraya Harmon didn't make his heart hammer and his palms sweat.

"Beer's fine." She accepted his offer.

"So when you asked me about the dance earlier..." His head tilted in question.

"Caught me." She smirked. "I just wanted to know if I could get you alone."

"Alone for what?" He took a seat on the couch while she continued to stand.

"What do you think?" She was done playing coy. untying the black raincoat, she let it slip down her shoulders as Peter choked. Her eye brow raised as she folded it over her arm and placed it on the chair.

Okay, maybe she wasn't done teasing yet...

He seemed both relieved and disappointed that she was still wearing clothes.

"Where are you parents?"

"Dad's gone forever, mom's gone for a few errands." The new information made Soraya stop looking at their trinkets and turn her full attention back to him. Picking at his beer bottle label, he tried to recollect himself. "Should you be here? I mean what with me being an apparent murderer and all?"

"I like to make friends with the biggest kids on the playground."

"You wanna be my _friend_?" He scoffed a laugh.

"No. We already went over what I want." She stood before him, knocking his knees apart with her shins. Peter sat straight before her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him back. Crawling over his lap, she gently touched his face.

"Why are you so scared of me?" She whispered against his suddenly dry feeling lips.

"I'm not." Nervous? Yes. Scared? No.

"So you'd be okay if I did this?" She closed the distance between their mouths, a gentle kiss to just test the waters. "Good?"

"Great." He pulled her back to him, allowing them to resume the kiss they shared earlier that day.

Those two months? Worth it.

Hands slipping under his shirt, Soraya was intrigued to find a pleasant trail of hair over his lower stomach. Ever the gentleman, he was tentative in furthering his hands' explorations. Slowly and cautiously he slipped the calloused fingers under her shirt moving higher only when she moaned into his mouth. If there was a clear sign of her wanting to further things it was when she unbuckled his belt and jeans, and pulled his half hard cock out. Peter hissed, burying his lightly bearded face in her shoulder as her hand brought him to his full length. Eye glancing around the room, she saw no real option of anywhere they could _really_ play.

"Bedroom?" Soraya bite at his ear lob, a deep moan resonating in his chest before he stood up. Hands matched hands in their eagerness to remove clothes, their melded lips and unfocused eyes causing them to hit a chair or two as he directed her to it. It was small, as small as her fucking closet but the long double bed that took up most of the room would do. Closing the door behind them, Peter took a moment to gaze at the girl shedding her clothes before him.

He wasn't a virgin. Not for quite some time now. But the sight of her standing naked from the waste up before him with that, by now signature, predatory look made his ears redden.

"I know I'm fucking gorgeous but it's common courtesy when one party takes their clothes off, so does the other." She whispered that last part as she unbuttoned his was doing it again: twist his gut and making his head spin.

And a clear head was what he needed right now. Clutching her wrists firmly, he didn't let up until she looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. He wanted something. Even he didn't know what, but it-he-he just wanted it. And in a very rare instance, Peter got what he wanted.

Her mask slipped, just briefly, but long enough for him to see that sparkle. _That's_ what he'd craved. To know she was vulnerable, that she was _real_. And as quickly as he found it it dissipated. Mask put back in place, she kissed him once more, starting up their game once again.

Peter Rumancek was a very hirsute man, Soraya came to learn. the dark dusting of hair over his chest was nice to run her fingers through, ticking her lips as she placed butterfly soft kisses against the flesh while Peter ungracefully removed the rest of his clothing.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her heels, and allowed Peter to pulled the jeans from her legs. Laying her back, his mouth descended upon her lower belly and thighs, only breaking away to answer her question of where to find the condoms. Digging into his nightstand at an awkward angle, Soraya nearly dropped the foil package when his hot tongue flicked against her clit. "Oh, what a talented tongue you have." She moaned, handing him the packet.

"The better to eat you with." He smirked.

There was a moment of pure, belly shaking laughter from her as he played along. The retort unexpected but oh so fitting.

Protection in place, Soraya opened her legs to let him slide through. Peter gave a happy little grin, making Soraya bite her lip to keep from smiling as well, before he kissed her. He gently touched her face. The skin felt soft skin under his fingertips from the curve to her cheek down to the hallow of her throat. A small sigh escaping before a long moan as he entered her.

Peter Rumancek may have been a gentleman on the couch, but in the bed he was a fucking animal. His thrusts alternated between slow and shallow and fast and deep, hips raising up to hit her at just the right angle.

Fuck. This was not what she was prepared for...

How the fuck he gained the upper hand she'll never know, but one minute she was coaxing him to kiss her and the next she was begging him keep going. She had severely underestimated his talents.

Peters hand never stopped exploring. While one was firmly planted to give him support, the other was testing every part of her he could reach, cataloging her reaction in his mind. The way she gasped as he tugged at her nipple, her breathy laugh when he stroked the underside of her breasts or her side, the sharp moan she gave then he rubbed eights over her clit: every bit of it, memorized for future use.

If this was a one time thing he wanted to find out every reaction she had. To do so, he needed more access to her skin. Peter rolled them over with ease. Her hands grasping at wide curves of her hips to keep her with him. Soraya's hands braced against the middle of his abdomen, fingertips swirling in the dark hair on him as she set a fast pace for them. He had her on the brink and after two months of waiting she was going to get what she came for.

"Fuck!" She shouted into the air, head craning back as the warmth in her lower belly turned into a muscle melting fire. Soraya's arms shook and her thighs trembled as he coaxed a longer orgasm out of her. Peter's hands re-situated themselves on the curve of her ass and her hip, leading the stunned girl back into rhythm until he felt his own orgasm overcome him.

It was hard, and fast, and oh so satisfying...

Unable to hold herself up any longer, Soraya fell back to Peter's chest. The sweat on their chests well earned. For the next three minutes they just laid there until Peter got up to throw the condom into the waste basket.

Rejoining her in bed, she was quick to sit on her once more. Peter didn't mind at all. His eyes traveled up her form, from the flare of her hips to the moles on her shoulders. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful but she probably got that all the time. So instead he broke the content silence with question that had been nagging at him since the other day. Now knowing how to phrase it without giving to much away he settled with, "What's different about you?"

"Nothing. A healthy and well earned sex glow...but that can't possibly be the reason for the frown on your face." She took notice of the down turned corners of his lips.

"You know what I mean."

"No. I don't."

"Roman can make people do what he wants. And you.."

"And me?" There was a twitch in her pinky. It was a tell-tale sign she was nervous or craving, that Roman or Shelley would have picked up on in an instant. Thankfully Peter didn't catch it.

"You touched the beaker in Chemistry the other day. Barehanded you just picked it up and moved it." Her eyes glazed a bit, her smile seeming forced now as he continued to pressure her. "The water inside it was boiling...why didn't you feel it?"

 _Well fuck me slowly with a chainsaw._ Soraya hummed in thought, quickly bouncing back. "I'll answer one of your if you answer one of mine."

"Kay."

"You smoke?" He nodded. "Lighter?" Peter lifted is upper body and dug through the drawer of the tiny nightstand. Pulling out the silver zippo he hesitantly handed it to her. Staring at the lighter she rolled it over in her hand in contemplation. Peter sat up, fully his hands planted on the bed behind him for support as he was transfixed. "Don't freak out." She warned. Peter nodded, eyes unable to decide where they wanted to be: her face or the flame. It happened slowly, like watching a car crash. Her tongue licked her bruised lips before being stuck through the air, the flame quickly being brought under it.

"Stop!" Peter's hand sliced through the air, fingers gently yet firmly grabbing her wrist. She didn't even flinch. Peter's pupils blew wide as her tongue was pulled back into her mouth, the flame being moved slowly over her cheek, her eye, and finally a hanging tendril of hair.

Nothing.

His mind trying to catch up, he released her wrist in order to test the flame himself. With a hiss, he pulled back his burnt fingers as she snapped the lighter closed. Smothering a chortle, she gentle brought the finger to her mouth. Soothing it with her tongue and a gentle suckling. This time, the hardening against her thigh wasn't planned. Placing a gentle kiss to it, she let go of his hand which then returned to her thigh.

Peter's mouth opened for a new slew of questions but Soraya quickly changed the topic per their agreement.

Fingers dancing along the curves of the styled 'g' tattooed on his side, she pushed him back down. "What's it stand for? Gypsy?" She only half joked.

"Close. Garjo. It means outsider." One hand danced over the skin of her thigh while the other rested casually behind his head. Peter smiled thinly as he stared at a freckle above her knee, circling it over and over again until she grabbed his hand and moved it higher up her leg.

"Garjo." She tested the word. "Hmm. So you speak another language. Do you ever get so into a good fuck you just slip into it?" Soraya's nails lightly scrapped down his chest till they skimmed the base of his cock.

"Lets see!" Sitting up sharply, he knocked her back to the bed. S, Soraya laughign as he attacked her neck and chest with new feverency. Hands running though his hair, she moaned as his stubbled mouth brushed against her pert nipple before eloping it in his hot mouth. What a talented tongue indeed...

Back arching, she was eager for more, his fingers dancing across her wet lower lips before gently thrusting into her. Curling against her inner walls, it sent a filling thrill through her. Eyes closed, and mouth opened, a moan built in her throat before he suddenly raised his head and went still.

 _Thack._

The door of the trailer closed. Shuffling occurring in the kitchen before a female voice rang out. "Peter! I brought dinner!"

The cursed together, Peter's head falling back to her chest with a light thunk. Not even her naked body and panting breath was enough to keep is hard as his mother voice rang through the trailer, rambling about the struggle she went though finding a Chinese restaurant that served Mongolian Beef in this town.

Rolling off her, Peter ran his hands over his face, dick completely limp as Soraya got up and dressed.

He followed suit and quickly shuffling on his discarded pairs of jeans. Before he could even talk to her, Soraya was dressed and opening the door, Peter having no choice but to rush out behind her as he zipped his fly.

He stopped just short of toppling her when she stopped before the tiny hallway. His mother and her seemed to be locked in a stare off, Peter quickly trying to smooth things over as Soraya smirked and his mother's brows furrowed. "Uh, Lynda, this is Soraya. Soraya this is my mom Lynda."

"Pleasure." Soraya smiled. Turning sharply to Peter she kissed him. "I'll be leaving." She stroked a hand down his chest, a familiar move to him now.

Except this time there was one small change. He linked his hand with hers, pulling her back. "No. You can stay." He looked towards his mother expectantly. He wasn't quite ready for her to leave yet, nor did he want her to feel pressured to go. Peter stared at his mother pointedly until she got the hint.

Lynda smiled, though not completely sincere, and quickly corrected her manners. "Yes. Of course. I'm sure there's plenty here for three."

"No. I mean _I want_ to go." Soraya firmly corrected him. With a sweet grin she caressed his scruffed cheek and departed on the advise he should make good choices.

As the creaking screen door closed behind her, Peter was left alone with his mother.

A silence fell over them. Lynda continued to set the small table and Peter stared at the closed door. "So...she's pretty." Lynda looked up only to find her son gone. "A pretty pretty problem." Lynda quietly sang to herself.

In his room, Peter pulled on a shirt and tied up the mess. Picking up the rest of the discarded clothing he recognized a distinct purple sweater. Picking up the soft cotton shirt he sat on his bed. Thumbs running back and forth over the smooth fabric, he couldn't help but picture her vividly.

Without a doubt, Soraya Harman had her hooks in him.

Peter knew it. He also liked it.

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **Pip, you finally got your Seter time! Hope it lived up. :)  
**

 **Thanks to the lovely reviewers and alerters and favors!**

 **As a quick side note: I've been getting some very rude and impatient messages. I know (/deeply hoping) they just happen to come across that way and aren't intentional but please check your message before you send it. I'm all for curiosity and questions but when people are rude and feel entitled to a story, it sets my teeth on fire. :) Love you all and remember your manners (most of the time)!**


	5. 1x02: A Good Lover A Stressful Life

**-:I:-**

* * *

But don't you understand?  
The hunger makes the man.  
With all that lies in front of us,  
The world looks so ridiculous to me.

Editors : Hyena

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **The Angel  
**

 ** ** _A Good Lover / A Stressful Life  
_****

* * *

Soraya's tongue brushed against the seam of his lips, her lips ghosting over his own. His hands ached to reach out and touch her but the bonds tying them to the bed made it impossible. His tried to focus but the lust filled dazed made it impossible.

Her nails gently raked through the hair on his chest, making him shiver as she grinned down at him. The grin gradually became sinister as she supplied more pressure. Peter's eyes seemed to finally focus, staring into her eyes as the pupil narrowed into something reptilian. Before he could even scream her nails dug into the soft flesh of his belly, tearing through skin and muscles, gutting him.

Peter woke with a start, heart beating a mile a minute.

His blue eys looked aorund the room before scaring himself by glancing at the TV. The ending of From Dusk Till Dawn was playing, the sudden arreasence of a creature making his already spastic heart leap. He quickly turned it off which revealed a not so silent night.

His mother having gone to bed hours ago, Peter found no reason why there should have been shuffling outside. Pausing in his movements, he listened, eyes spotting a shadow moving around outside with the distinct sound of giggling.

Removing the blanket his mother had placed on him he ran out to catch the culprits.

The sound of giggling faded as the children ran away. Peter called after them with no response. Seeing no reason to run into the dark woods after them, he ground his teeth in agitation. His blue eyes gazed around their yard and trailer looking for any vandalism. Luckily there was nothing out of place or missing, only something added.

With a sigh, he picked up the werewolf mask skewered on a pike. _How original..._ He pressed the plastic nose, the plastic squishing flat before popping back up. He supposed it could be worse... flicking the mask he sighed once more in resignation.

Eyes wandered around the woods before settling on the mansion at the top of the hill. A scattering of lights were still lit in various rooms of the house. And though he didn't know for sure, he was certain one of them was Soraya's.

The thought of her brought back the foggy memory of his dream. Suddenly uncomfortable and hearing the beginning of thunder roll in, he retreated back inside.

* * *

A hickey graced the bottom of his neck the next morning. Stumbling into the cramped bathroom, he began his daily rutine. After he started up the shower he went to the sink to throw some cold water on his face. A small smile tattooed his face as his eyes settled on the bruise. _Soraya._ He felt a lightness in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time. The thought of her suddenly brought forth an old memory.

When he was just a child he remembered asking his grandfather why he was sad. What would make him happy?

"What would make any person happy?" Nicolae responded. Young and confused, Peter could only shrug. "The key to a happy life: A good lover. That is the secret." He imparted his wisdom.

Peter didn't know what that meant. He hugged the door frame as he watched his grandfather shave. The four long scars from his jaw dawn to his neck had always fascinated Peter but his mother and uncle had made it clear never to ask him about it. "What's that from? A bad lover?" If Nicolae was going to be candid, Peter might as well take advantage of it. _  
_

"You could say that. Upir." He said the name like a curse. It was.

"What's that?"

"They are things that look like you and me, but they are not. Clothes, smile, beating heart-" Nicolae frown liked he smelt uncle Vince's moonshine. "-these things are only masks hiding the creature beneath. But the eyes, ah, they show themselves with the eyes. There is such darkness that it shines."

Turning off the tap, Peter's face fell to a frown.

 _So dark they shine_...

Soraya's eyes _did_ shine. A light twinkle that caught your attention and drew you to it like a sparkling gold coin hiding in the sand.

She may not be Upir, but there was no denying she was something inhuman. Now he just had to figure out what...

* * *

 _Slam_

"Did you give Roman the key to the python case?"

 _She was too sober to deal with this shit._ "Good morning to you too, lady crab ass." Soraya firmly gripped the pale wrist that was attached to the hand gripping her locker closed. Pushing it down, she gave Letha the bare minimum of a glare as she wrenched the metal contraption open and threw in her entire bag. Letha could only glower harder as Soraya grabbed an Altoids case from the top before shoving her locker closed.

"I'm serious. Did you help him with the snake?"

"What snake?!" The Harman girl tried unsuccessfully not to laugh at Letha's attempt to intimidate her with her fucking blue Bambi eyes. Walking past, Letha was quick to follow her, easing over her shoulder to share a suspicion.

"The one that somehow got out into the middle of the dance."

Soraya paused in the hallway, letting Letha catch up and circle to the front of her. Though she was trying to remain composed, not ever Soraya could keep her mouth from turning up in a amused grin. "Did he-?"

"Yes!" Letha had her shrill scolding mother tone on now.

It didn't help.

Soraya resumed her path towards...somewhere, as she opened her case and plucked out a mint and a near identical pill. Poping them both into her mouth, Soraya's carefree chuckle only further angered Letha. "So-Si!"

"Oh come one! That was funny enough I actually wish I was here." But Letha wasn't nearly as amused. Her eyes rolled so hard they lead her body to making a sharp right down the opposite hall. The blonde Godfrey was in such a rampage, even though Soraya only hesitated a moment before following after, she had to give a little jog to catch up.

"And here I thought being the grade-A bitch was my thing." Soraya's hands encircled Letha's arm to stop her. "What's got you in such a fucking mood? You and Roman both..."

Returning home last night, Soraya had gone to his room to make him watch movies with her since Shelly wouldn't. At least she had tried to. The fucker locked his door and then pretended to be managing to make the girl face her, Soraya's bitter smile turned to a hesitant frown when she took note of the scrunch in Letha's face. A tell tale sign she was about to wracked the older girl, who at the turning feeling in her tummy as Letha's reddening eyes, became defensive. "Hey, if your gonna be a bitch for no reason you have to expect it back."

But Letha shook her head, her blond curls bouncing around her red tinted face as he voice cracked and croaked. "I'm p-nt"

"You're what?"

"I'm pregnant."

Soraya went absolutely stiff, freezing for a moment before her face began to crack. It started at her lips. Pressing together her lips buckled under the stress, her eyes scrunching and watering as her face became red. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Little puffs and chortles became a squeaky little 'heheh' growing into gaps and finally a full belly laughter that made her entire body shake with its force. Her back made the lockers rumbled as she slid down them to the floor, ignoring the looks people gave them as her legs gave out. Soraya Harmon was on the floor, head tucked in her knees as she tried to gather herself. Letha didn't know whether she won't to cry in humiliation or join her in insane laughter.

The virgin was pregnant and the school slut was in stitches over it. By the end of it both girls were in tears and shaking with muffled laughter.

"How the fuck did this happen?" She turned to the blonde who decided to join her on the floor.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Letha wiped her eyes, watching the people pass without really seeing them.

At the bottom of the lockers the girls giggles stopped Letha bite her lips before looking straight into Soraya's eyes. "It was an angel."

One, two, three,...

"Bullshit." Soraya barked

"No." Letha shook her head. "He had this pure white glow and these wings tha-"

Soraya's calm was broken once more with another round of giggles, silencing Letha. Her heeled boots kicked against the floor as she tried to force it out. Her fit of hysteria was only mildly acknowledged as students rushed to get to class at the sound of the late bell. Beside her, Letha put her head back against the lockers with the intention of just letting her friend laugh it out.

Because if they didn't laugh, they were both sure they would scream...

* * *

Elsewhere, Peter was left alone with his thought. Eating a lunch of sunflower seeds, he stared out at the passing by people, Soraya and Roman on his mind. And just like that, the latter appeared in his peripheral vision. Breaking the safety perimeter the rest of the students had seemed to follow.

"You're fucking my girlfriend." Was how Roman's greeting as he walked towards him. Other than the glare, there was no anger or tension held in his voice, making Peter smile.

"She's not your girlfriend."

"Soraya's no ones girlfriend." He leaned against the wall besides him.

"Is that all you want?" Peter continued to eat his sunflower seeds, his voice plain but with a hint of amusement. Roman looked at the ground, kicking his heel against the cement before looking up and forward. The ice broken, he needed something else to continue keeping Peter's attention.

"You do the reading for Pisaro?"

"Nah, I watched the movie."

"You know, I can never keep the Brontë sisters straight. Which one do fat goth girls learn how to masturbate to?"

A smirk crossed Peter face as he turned to Roman. "Why do I get the feeling that half the reason you talk to me is the way people look at you when you're talking to me?"

Glancing left and right, Roman looked at the small crowds whispering as they stared. "Oh, it's more than half."

"The thing is, me and you don't have the same problem."

"Which is?"

"You're only bored if you're boring." And with that, Peter left.

He could feel Roman's eyes more than anyone else's as he walked back through the quad to the school. On his way, he found the devil herself not long after. His eagerness to touch her again took over, hand slipping into hers he smiled. He had seen her earlier talking with her friend, too busy or distracted to see the smile he sent her way as she passed him. Soraya smiled back, seemingly genuine. He liked it when it was genuine, it softened her face and made her more...earthly.

But whatever high he was riding feeling her warm hand in his quickly faded when she pulled it free and continued to walk. Peter's smile fell, an uncertainty takings over as he followed behind her. His large blue eyes glanced around at her usual audience. "Afraid to be seen with me now?" He bitterly challenged.

Soraya stopped in her tracks, taking a deep breath before tuning around to face him. Dropping her bag to the floor, she strutted back to him and grabbed his face with both hands.

Genuine was gone. A simply yet slightly annoyed smile took it's place. "I like you, Peter. I like sex with you even more. But I don't hold hands. And I don't talk about wishes and dreams. And I sure as hell don't do dinner dates and movie nights..." Peter's eyes darted around to see the way people were staring. He swallowed nervously as her grip tightened, redrawing his attention. "But never, even for a single fucking second, think that anything I do is influenced on what these backwoods cousin fuckers think. Okay?" Before he had a chance to retort the bronze haired vixen kissed him deeply. Tongue dancing with his and bodies pressed together, her hands ran through his hair, messing it before she pulled back. "See you in English." She pecked his lips and left.

Standing in the middle of the quad, Peter wanted to laugh at the gobsmacked looks on many of the onlookers. His grandfather told him the key to a happy life was spending it with a good lover. He would soon find out Soraya was as good a lover he was ever going to get...

* * *

For a month, Soraya stayed true to her word.

There was no hand holding of any kind.

There were quick fucks in the closets and her tongue running over his neck in the hall, and her hand messaging his erection under the desk, but not for a single instance did Soraya ever allow her hand to hold his. And for some reason, that began to irk the werewolf.

With Soraya not shying away from the fact the gypsy boy was her new play thing, a shift in discrimination had occurred.

On one hand, the masses had stopped their not so passive aggressiveness towards him for the time being; too afraid the queen and her Prince would blacklist them from the social circles. On the other hand, the few that remained, only became more aggressive thanks to their jealousy and bitterness. This lead to more than a couple bruises on his body.

During one of their usual flings in his trailer, Peter had to force himself not to scream as Soraya's thighs pressed against on such bruise. Her seductive smile fell to an annoyed frown as she gently poked the bruises, her eyes gaining a glimmering of fury as he hissed at the pain, taking her hands in his briefly and confessing he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her but he'd pass out from pain in the process. Soraya sat on the bed next to him, in a huff, asking him what the fuck happened before telling him she had other things to do that day. She promptly left afterwards.

The following day, each of the two boys who had jumped him had mumbled an apology in passing. He hadn't heard or seen from them since.

And while Peter's heart fluttered as the queen came strutting up right afterward asking him if he was "up for it now", he couldn't tell whether she did, whatever it was, for him or for herself. After all, it had been the only time he had said "no" to her, and from the dangerous curl of her nails into the flesh of his chest, he was betting it would be the last.

Still, he couldn't help but stare at her with a feeling of total admiration as she then pulled him into the empty room down the hall, being careful enough to avoid his healing bruises while also causing a few of her own.

A full month passed with no incident from any direction. For a short time in his life...Peter was _happy._ From the moment he woke up to the moment he passed out, there was an odd feeling of mild happiness that was so foreign to him.

But as the laws of physics dictate, what goes up must come down.

And with the full moon approaching, Peter crashed.

The of the full moon was stressful enough. Add it to the three tests, a pop quiz and a class reading assignment and his entire body was crawling in nerves and tension. Soraya didn't miss the latter. Not knowing what had him in such a mood, she was shocked when he pushed her hands off him in the hall. After a quick snappish conversation, Soraya left without even sparing him a glance, leaving Peter to wallow in his own self irritation. Slamming his locker closed, the werewolf's eyes found the stare of one Roman Godfrey at the end of the hall. His pestering was another thing Peter had been free from this month. Soraya must have done something there too...

Popping a pill into his mouth, Roman kept eye contact with the Gypsy as he passed, staring him down before passing him and looping his arm around Soraya's shoulders.

If his locker wasn't already closed, he'd slam it again. _Fuck!_

For the rest of the day Peter finally got a taste of Soraya's infamous warm cold shoulder. Her peaceful flash of a smile on her otherwise stoic face belied the ice in her eyes. Every chance he tried to approach her Roman was already there chatting. Every chance he got to talk to her, someone appeared to steal her attention. Finally, the shifter had had enough. In the final class of the day, he didn't even bother trying to sit near her. Wallowing in his own misery he tucked his tail between his legs and focused on reading for the next hour. He'd apologize after school.

"I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven. So, he shall never know how I love him-"

Peter's reading was interrupted by a ball of paper landing on his desk. For a moment he thought it was Soraya but the beauty was a good two rows ahead of him and still filing her nails. There could only be one other person. Their teacher cut her reading to stare down the pampered first son. "Are we passing notes, Mr. Godfrey?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am." Roman could play the innocent so well. When she continued to stare down at him he rolled his hand, signaling her to continue. After all, the smiling was making his face hurt. The Upir's attention was brought to Soraya's questioning gaze. _He had thrown a note and if not to her then who?_ Heads tilting and brows dancing, they had a silent conversation that, in summary, ended with Roman telling her to pay attention to the teacher and Soraya telling him to fuck off.

At the other end of the class room, Peter closed his eyes to keep from rolling them as he sighed. It seemed Roman's absence was over. Feeling his green eyes on him, Peter's skin began to crawl. Fine... uncrumpling the paper corner, he somehow new to expect the question.-

 _Can I watch?_

\- he just wasn't quite prepared for the anxiety that followed. _Double fuck._

Needless to say he didn't get around to apologizing after school, to preoccupied with the streams of _FUCK_ and it's many variations while he quickly stomped home.

* * *

"He's coming where?!"

"I don't know! He asked me if he could." Peter looked through the plastic blinds for the third time that night. His heart was hamming in his chest and it wasn't just from the full moon.

"No, no. Look, simple questions have two possible answers."

"I meant to say no!" Peter defended. "But I opened up my mouth and something else came out!" Roman had to have gotten that talent from Soraya...

"Peter! We've discussed these people! What the hell don't y-"

"Lynda, he's the only one in town that thinks that I didn't do it!" He cut her off.

"Oh, because he did?"

"I just..." Peter didn't know how to explain it. "I have this feeling that something very important is about to happen."

Lynda paused, letting her anger simmer. "I get it." She spoke softly, cradling his face. "I get it, baby. I get it. 'Cause you've never had a friend." Peter's eyes fell to the side, the word stabbing close to his thudding heart, slowing it as she let go. "I hope those balls know what they're doin'."

He had no fucking clue. The gypsy boy swallowed, wondering if he was doing the right thing or not... He didn't have much time to dwell as a light knock came from the door. Steeling himself, he whipped his sweaty palms on his jeans, looking to his mother for courage as he opened the door. Triple fuck. "Soraya?!" He squeaked, not expecting the girl.

"Peter!" She gasped back.

"What are you doing here?" His ears tinged pink at the crack in his voice. Though he was surprised, her face was a much more calming sight than Roman's would have been.

"I'm going out with Letha in the morning. I came to get my sweater." She gently pushed him out of her way as she entered the house. "Oh, and he came to see you turn into a wolf." She pointed behind her shoulder on the way down the small hall. So, focused on her retreating form neither Rumancek noticed the tall figure now leaning on the door frame.

"Hey." Roman greeted.

Peter jumped. For fuck sakes these two were gonna kill him. "Come in." He motioned for the giant to join them in their small abode. From the kitchen, Lynda paused in making dinner to greet the new guest. "Hello."

"Hi."

"Roman, this is Lynda, my mom. Lynda, this is Roman."

Well shit. And here he thought she was chilly to Soraya. The temperature drop could be felt as Lynda went pack to pealing potatoes, not even both with further niceties other than to make her presence known. In all fairness the last of Peter's guest she was nice to had seemed to steal all her sons attention away. She wouldn't be making that mistake again...

"What are you Hindu or something?" Roman tried to make small talk as he noticed the statue on a chest of drawers.

"The photo's my grandfather, and the statue's Ganesh. That's the god of new beginnings. But I don't think Nicolae ever actually knew that, huh?" Peter's teasing tone was cut short by the unamused look Lynda continued to give him. It only worsened when Soraya walked in, purple sweater over arm. "He used to call him Jumbo and ask if what he had between his legs was anything like what he had on his nose."

"He was a real class act."

"Nah, just knew his priorities." The two males looked at her, smirk firmly planted as she eyes the statue. "So just to be clear we're over denying the whole were-wolf thing?" She clarified. The shorter of the males bashfully smiled at her, worried of what she would think. "That's...something new."

Emerging from the kitchen with a few glasses and a carton of milk, Lynda ordered them to sit. While Roman and Lynda took the couch and recliner, Soraya opted to sit on an old stack of luggage. Roman was the only one to accepted her offer of milk. Peter citing the lactic acid as his reason for declining.

"Right, right, right. It does funny things to the tummy." Lynda explained to them before a silence overtook the room. "So, meeting a friend of Peter's." She tried to break the ice she had built up, seeing the discomfort her son was in. "A first time for everything. A very good friend, I hope. What are your plans after graduation?"

"I guess my mom will bribe my way into somewhere decent."

"I see. That's nice. And you?"Lynda turned her attention to the girl across from her.

Soraya pulled a stand of cat hair off her sweater, the blasted creature had been using it as a bed by the looks of it. (Which was somewhat true as Casper the cat liked the lie by his master head at night, which just so happened to be where Peter kept her sweater.) "Me? Oh no. I'm more of a one day at time kinda girl."

"Hmm, not very stable is it?"

"Yes, because the gypsies have a great history with stability?"

Peter's deep sigh, caught all of their attentions. His constant taping of his lucky Jasper stone against the glass ashtray made his mother reach for his hand. She couldn't do anything about his bouncing knee. "He gets nervous beforehand. Hormones."

"I have a tranquilizer." Roman offered. He had a few actually but he wasn't quiet sure how his seemingly laid back mother would feel about that.

Peter was quick to shoot it down while his mother eagerly agreed. "Yes. Just a little to wet my whistle, thank you."

Silently, Soraya watched as Peter's hands began to shake and sweat, his entire body seeming to be a ball of nerves as he removed his rings. It was fascinating indeed. "Does it hurt?" Her voice of honey made Peter's eyes refocus.

"You wouldn't notice if a bus hit you."

"Are you still you?"

"He's a good boy." Lynda reached over to pat his hand once more. "He's my handsome little honeybun."

Soraya tried to hide her smile but failed. _Oh that wasn't embarrassing at all_ , Peter thought as he gave his mother a tight smile. He was unaware she was quite proud of herself for it. Trying to distract from what was happening around and inside him, Peter's eyes turned towards the clock, focusing on the seconds that ticked by. Eventually, it was time. Lynda lead Roman out while Peter stood, noticing Soraya's presence. She closed the door behind them before walking back over to him. An apology began to fall from his lips before it was suffocated under the press of her own. The kiss made him tense then relax, her blue eyes sparking with intrigue behind their hooded lids.

"You-You're okay with this?"

"Oh, sweetie. You might not believe it but this isn't even the craziest fucking thing I've heard this month. It just makes you more interesting." She breathed against his neck, placing a gentle kiss there as well before her hands found his.

His shaking hands went taunt before gripping them back. It took a month but Soraya's hands were finally grasped in his. Well wasn't this a day of fucks.

His shaking having stopped, Soraya pulled away, her lesser warmth missed from his feverish skin. "Now let's see what you can really do." She pulled the shirt from his torso, letting him strip as she threw them into a pile on the couch. Standing in all his glory, she lead him out of the trailer.

"What's the G stand for?"

"Go suck an egg." Peter brushed it off, though somewhat surprised Soraya hadn't told him. He had a feeling those two knew everything about each other and the people around else do the rich do but gossip?

How he underestimated her...

Looking around the clearing Soraya turned towards the mother. "Are we safe here?"

"Yeah. Just watch." And that they did. Peter spit into his hands, rubbing them together to make a natural hair gel as he smoothed his hair from his face. He began to enter a trance of deep concentration when Roman suddenly snapped his finger.

"Ah, darn."

"What?"

"I forgot to bring a Frisbee." The two upperclass children laughed as Peter spared a moment to flip them off.

"Fetch me some rabbits while your out. I want a new coat."

"Don't joke."

"It wasn't a joke." Soraya mumbled. Afterwards they remained silent in an attempt to let Peter focus.

The first sign was the cracking of bone. Like every joint was popped at once. Then game the movement under his flesh, a scream of pain as his rips expanded, rounded, and then shrunk underneath his skin. His spin followed, shortening and bringing him to his needs and the deep breaths and yells continued. Eyes squeezing from their sockets to make new for the new yellow ones was the last straw. Much like those blue eyes she had come to adore, Soraya sunk into the leaves, crouching down to his level as his transformation continued. The paws and claws came shortly after, followed by the ribboning of flesh. All around him, his skin cracked and tore, revealing near black fur laying underneath. At that point it was all a blur, the next thing she new the woods had gone quiet. The only sound the chomping of black wolf's mouth chomping on a lump of flesh not four feet from her.

A leaf crunched under her knee, bringing it's attention to her. For a moment it stared, ears perking and folding against its head as it took light steps towards her, allowing her fingers to gently touch it's bloody white muzzle before it quickly lurched back. Looking at them, it snarled, focusing on Roman as he too bent down. "Peter?"

Without any warning, the wolf quickly turned and ran off into the woods.

Roman summed it best. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **Thank so much two the four of you who reviewed and that added alerts and favorites I've gotten! Piper: don't move to the mountains and become a llama farmer. I'd miss you too much! Jelly: YES! Thank you, I'm trying! Bri: I love you too you precious honeybun! Sarcastic Enigma: Any and all Marvel references are welcome! XD Sorry if it wasn't my best chapter.**

 **An incident occurred that shook my confidence for a bit. On a side note: I turn 21 today! Yay! Happy Birthday too me! XD**


	6. 1x03: This Not Us (MA)

**-:I:-**

* * *

There will be no tenderness, no tenderness  
I will show no mercy for you,  
you had no mercy for me  
The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly

The Bravery : Hatefuck

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **The Order of the Dragon  
**

 ** _This. Not Us._  
**

* * *

Soraya Harman was, by most people's definitions, a light sleeper. Ever since a very young age the smallest things would keep her up. The room was too hot, the dogs barked, the fan hummed too loud, the pillow covers were too scratchy, etc. etc. Little nit-picky things that drove her parents and nanny crazy as they did everything in their power to accommodate her.

But as she grew older, she discover cures for her insomnia. Partying, fucking, drinking, pill popping, coke snorting… Activities most people would consider a deadly vice were just a warm glass of milk to Soraya Harman. The exhaustion that came from a happy and productive night lulled her to sleep without much struggle.

However, as no such glasses were available at the Rumancek trailer, the girl had barely slept a wink. So when the screen door to the powder blue trailer opened, it disturbed the feather light sleep she managed to fall into. Multicolored eyes snapping open, she sat up from the little armchair she had curled into.

Peter froze and adjusted the tablecloth around his hips as Soraya, and soon Roman, stared up at him. A mixture of disbelief and awe at their continued presence caused him to hesitate before closing the door and stumbling his way back towards his room.

It wasn't but three heartbeats later that Soraya was quickly trailing after him, rudely ignoring Lynda's "Good Morning" as she whirled past. Coming to a quick stop at his bed room door, she braced each hand on the door frame. The young woman watched as Peter swayed on his feet, nearly topping head first into his nightstand in the process of trying to pull on his sweatpants. She jumped forward. Grabbing him just in time, she let him lean into her.

Soraya's warm hands gently held him by the shoulder and center of his back, one moving up to caress his stubble filled cheek. When he managed to open his eyes he was met with something akin to, dare he say it?, worry. The extra warmth of the hand felt great on his clammy skin. Leaning into her, he let his forehead rest with hers, just breathing in her scent and feeling her warmth. It wasn't until she said his name he had realized he was nearly asleep. "Peter?" He hummed in acknowledgment. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." barely escaped his scratchy throat. Soraya seemed to stiffen up at that, the knowledge he would indeed be fine allowing her walls to build back up. Getting the hint that their moment was over, Peter let his lips brush her cheek. A soft and tender gesture that was unfamiliar to her. His hand reached out and grabbed hers, squeezing it in reassurance as he passed. If it wasn't for his exhausted state, me might have felt her squeeze back. When she finally followed him out she found him resting in the chair she had previously abandoned.

"So, how was it?" Roman questioned. Soraya took a seat on the arm of the chair, Peter glancing up to her before staring intensely at the coffee table. The upper-class teens picked up on his hesitance and shared a look. "What?"

"Something was out there... a scent." He replaced the rings and pendant that he always wore. His hands fumbling with the tiny clasp of the necklace before Soraya's long nails opened it for him.

"Of what? Milk-Bone?" At Soraya and Peter's equally unamused looks, Roman cleared his throat in apology.

"Something _bad_." Peter clarified. His hand rested on Soraya's leg, grabbing her attention as his eyes turning up towards her. "Look, last night, you and my mom- you're the only ones who know." He looked to Roman. "I need you to keep it that way."

"Who would I tell?" Peter still gave him a hard look. "Scout's honor." Looking at his watch, Roman noticed the time. School started in an hour and a half. That should be enough time to head home and change before being late. "All right." Roman put out his cigarette and tried to stretch while he stood. Not an easy task for the 6'4 boy in the 7 foot high trailer. "Were gonna go home and change. Should I pick you up later?" Roman turned to Peter, only to find him fast asleep with his head rested on Soraya's leg.

The bronze hair girl lifted his head and slipped out from under it. Peter didn't even wake as it slightly thudded against the wood arm despite her best efforts.

"Poor thing. The turn, it really takes it out of him." Lynda sympathized with her exhausted son. "Coffee?" She perkily asked the teens.

"School."

"Right."

"And id he wakes up tell him not worry. I'll bring by his homework at lunch. Assignment, notes, the works." Soraya reassured. The thoughtfulness of which momentarily surprised Roman and Lynda both.

"Thank you."The teens nodded and began to leave. "But guys...Scout's honor." She reminded them.

"Yes, ma'am." Roman agreed. Exiting out of the trailer, he missed the little chat that followed.

"Soraya..." Lynda called the girl back in. "My son cares about you. A lot."

That wasn't big news. If it wasn't for his constant need to hold her hand or the big dopey grin he got when he saw her walking his way, the fact he repeatedly tried to get personal with her sure as hell would have given it away. Peter Rumancek wasn't the first boy to fall under her spell and he wouldn't be anywhere close to the last.

Her first reaction was to do what she always did and brush it off with "that's nice." But looking at Peter, exhausted and weak...

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she decided to admit something something that made her gut twist in an indescribable way. "I know. I care about him too."

It was as hard to say as it was to swallow and seeing the dead smile Lynda gave her made her want to take it back. With five little words Lynda managed to ruin whatever chance they had at liking each other. "I really wish he didn't." Opening the door for her, the older but much shorter woman gave the hint she could show herself out. Soraya glared at her back with venom, sparing the werewolf one last pitying look.

"Me too, Lynda, me too." Her mumble was hidden beneath the creak and close of the old door. Sliding into Roman's car, the younger teen just had to ask. "His mommy doesn't like me."

Her heavy tone made Roman feel like it affected her more than she let on. So in usual Roman fashion, he tries to make light of it. "Nobodies mother likes you."

"You're mother adores me..."

"You're mixing up _Adore_ with _Abhor_ again." Their laughter shot of with a smack to his thigh. At least she was smiling now.

* * *

Soraya stayed true to her wood and a few hours later arrived at the hidden trailer with papers in bag. Manicured nails quickly tapped against the woodwork of the door before she wiped them off. Peter open it with his eyes unfocussed and his chest heaving. Had she been privy to what just occurred in his nightmare, he was sure she wouldn't be giving him such a look. "Are you okay?" She asked for the second time that day.

"Hea-Yeah." He huffed. Opening the door, he stepped aside to invite her in. Once more he couldn't help but notice how out of place she seemed in his little shack of a home. Her tall gothic heels (now spattered with mud) and black and red dress made her as intimidating as they did alluring. It was a trademark style of her's apparently. His blue gaze was ripped from the high cut of her dress when she whistled at him. Her amuse smirk gaze away the dog jokes running through her head by the time she pulled a stack of papers from her leather bag. He rushed forwards to take the burden from her. Eyes scanning over the first few pages he was quick to realize everything had already been filled out and answered. Even his name which was, very surprisingly, spelt correctly.

"It's done." He shuffled through the rest of them. All done and ready to turn in.

"Yeah. Quality shit to-" she tapped the page he currently was reading. "Guaranteed Bs. I mean I'd have them go higher but I thought it would be suspicious if all the sudden your GPA skyrocketed."

Peter smirked, tossing the papers on the table as he stepped closer. "I have a B+ grade in everything." He put the papers on the table beside them.

His attempt to surprise her worked, her well groomed eyebrows lifting in amusement. "Good for you. I have an A-." She bested him.

He scoffed. "You have people do your homework for you!

"Hmmm...and now so do you." She slid the papers closer in his direction. Peter smiling at the floor to keep from laughing at her. She had this ability to make his heart thump and when she smiled like that it made it only made it thump harder. Managing to control himself, he raised his head and said the polite "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She closed her bag and prepared to leave. He grabbed her arm with just enough strength to make her stop. "You're leaving?"

"Yeaaahhhhhaaaa" She spoke to him slowly as if he didn't understand. The charge was subtle but noticeable to him.

Peter frown, his shoulders sinking. "Things are different now, aren't they."

"Different how?"

"Between us." He looks at her hesitantly.

Lips quirked, Soraya stepped up to him, the warmth from her body so hard to ignore in the hairs width of distance between them. Her lips brushed his just barley, the scent of her java flavored lip gloss distracting as she spoke against them. "There is no us." The quiet words startled Peter's hooded eyes wide open. His parted lips closing and turning into a frown. There was chill in his spine. "There's YOU-" A hand laid flat across his chest. "-and ME, and THIS." She placed a gentle kiss to his mouth, oulling away before he even had the chance to deepen it. "But no US. I don't do US-es. I thought you knew that." She applied force to her hand, pushing him back a step.

"So you and Roman-?"

"You. Me. This." She repeated. "I don't do multiples. Well actually I've _done_ a few multiples." She gave him a naughty smirk. "But when I'm with you…I'm with YOU." She stressed. It was the one bit of honor she'd never compromise…. "Keeps my scheduled clutter free and lets me know who's dick I'm cutting if I catch something." She shrugged.

"So you're not...freaked out."

"Freaked out? About? Oh the whole exploding and turning into a big black wolf. Yeah, no, totally cool with that." She waved it away with her hand.

Peter couldn't help but laugh, scratching at his head. "But uh, for the record, I'm gonna pass on watching it again."

"Was it the me eating my skin thing?" His nose scrunched up. Yeah he wasn't fond of that either.

"Actually it was the teeth popping out thing...I jut have the thing about teeth and dentists and-" Soraya closed her eyes and gave a shiver, her face twisting in disgust of the memory of them just falling out like that. "I'm just gonna pass from now on."

"Totally understandable. Thanks again, for the homework, and, uh, the sticking around." He walked her to the door.

"No problem."

"What do you remember when your a wolf?"

"Not that much." Seeing the glimmer of knowledge but the wish to keep it to herself, he frowned. "What?"

"Another body was found this morning."

"And you think I-?"

"No." She cut him off. "Body was old, like a week at least. I just wanted you to know in case-okay then." Soraya's eyes rolled as he suddenly left. When there was no sign he was coming back she chose to leave him to mope. Three minutes later, Soraya secured her seat belt the same moment Peter slid into her car.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You still look like shit."

"I don't think I've ever told you what a sparkling personality you have." Peter sniffed, closing the door. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"School!" When Soraya continued to stare at him he through his head back against the leather seat. "For fuck sake, PLEASE." He stressed.

Putting the Mercedes into drive, she calmly commented, "You're a fucking idiot."

to which Peter begrudgingly admitted, "I know."

* * *

"Vargulf."

"What?" Roman and Soraya echoed.

"Vargulf."

"Repeating the word doesn't explain what the fuck it means." Soraya pulled her hair up into a pony tail. In the stairway to the old below ground arts building they were aforded a bit of privacy. Enough for them to share a joint and an in depth discussion on what the fuck was eating the girls of Hemlock Grove. Soraya passed on the offer. The Vicodin she took earlier already putting her in a sweet spot. At least sweet enough to tolerate this gypsy supernatural bullshit.

"A wolf will only attack if it's hungry or if it's provoked- if it's normal." Peter tried to explain. "A vargulf is a wolf that's gone insane."

"Insane how?"

"It doesn't eat what it kills. That's not the way. It's like a disease."

"You sure that's what this is?" Soraya leaned against the railing below them. Her arms crossed, it was clear to see the trepidation she held as she looked at the werewolf. "How?"

"I could smell it. That night at the park. You can tell a whole life by a scent-sex, health, fucking needs. This wasn't like anything. This was just anger."

"Is it someone you know?" Roman blew out his smoke.

"I never knew any others except Nicolae." Peter shrugged. They weren't the only ones out of their element here.

Soraya scratched at her arms. "Werewolf of Vargulf?"

"Both. But this is a strange town. You can feel it on your balls."

"So, I guess we find him now." Roman offered Soraya the bud. This time she took it. She clearly saw what fucked up direction this talk way going.

"Who?"

"The.. va-vargulf." He stuttered over the word.

Peter gave a disbelieving scoff. "Why?!"

"To make him stop!"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind that. This shit's really putting a damper on the party spirits." She blew the smoke into rings.

"Have you heard of the Order of the Dragon? It was a group of knights from the Crusades. My mom used to tell stories. I've always wanted to be a warrior..." When Peter kept his gaze away Roman pushed harder. Revealing something that he'd never admitted out loud. "I see things sometimes. I hear these whispers, but I don't always know if they're real or not! I need to do something!"

"I know." Peter got up and began climbing the staircase.

"What are you talking about? You just told me-"

"Roman, maybe this is something you should be discussing with your guidance counselor."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

Soraya stood towards the bottom of the stairs, eyes glued to the fight occurring in front of her as the joint burnt out in her grasp. A part of her was as afraid as she was surprised, the combination of which kept her completely still as they screamed.

"It means no! I know it's not a word you're used to hearing! But no! I'm sorry." He yelled back.

"Sorry?! HEY!" Roman screamed at his retreating figure.

Left with only each other, Roman found little comfort in her frozen look. Her wide eyes and upturned parted lips of no help to him. "What. The actual. Fuck..."

* * *

"Hey!" Peter ignored the call for his attention. The distinct sound of clicking heels and her honey like voice not doing anything to qualm the anger he held.

What the fuck did they know? Like they could just find it and cure it? Turn it over to the cops? Fucking spoiled-

"Asshole!" Before Peter could even come up with a comeback he was pushed (tackled was a more apt word) into a classroom. How the fuck did she always know which were empty?!

"What the fuck is your problem!" She slammed the door closed behind her, putting herself flush against the lock so he couldn't get out. Peter paced as much as he could in the room.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? High school girls are dying once a week. And just like you said it's not gonna stop. It's not gonna fill up. So I'm sorry if I'm a little afraid of getting my snatch eaten by a werewolf."

"Didn't stop you before." He grimaced a smile.

Soraya's eyes turned into that predatory quality he had come to adore. But unlike a sexual conquest, this time she was on the hunt for blood. Her warning came out as a growl. "Watch it. You know what it is, you know how to stop it. They don't! They're laying fucking raccoon traps and hoping meat sacrifices will draw it out. If you don't do something the body counts gonna rise. And most of the people I care about fit the profile!"

"You care about someone _other_ than yourself?! Ha! Who?!" Peter challenged her.

"Well for starters, and most importantly, ME!"

"So if anything happens to my fine perfectly sculpted ass or Letha's or Shelley's that's partly your fault!" The accusation he'd purposely let something happen to her made the twisting in his gut return. Her hands balled into fists. Her words sending him to the edge. "That's on you, Peter! You egotistical son of a-"

Peter wanted to punch her in the face but settled for a different way to shut her up. Her back was slammed into the door, his hand wrapping around her throat. Behind her, the thick wood shuddered at the impact. Soraya gripped at his leather sleeves, accepting the bruising kiss with her own. Peter bit at her lip, his hands pulling at her dress and hair.

Fuck. When did he become the initiator?

Soraya bit at his lip again, their teeth meeting in a mouth to mouth snarl as he pulled her back and away from the door. His grip on her neck never loosened or tightened, a firm reminder he could be the monster she seemed to want to make him.

Realizing the tables had turned, Soraya tried to take back control, her weak upper body strength doing nothing to keep him at bay as his teeth began nipping at her throat, moving up to her ear as he _growled_ at her.

She stilled for a moment, liking the shiver the warning sent through her. The moment of weakness was all it took for him to push up her dress skirt and turn her into the desk. The air was slightly knocked out of her at the force, the weight of him over her causing her to moan.

His fingers stayed griped around her throat, giving it the lightest of squeezes when she tried to rise.

He was taking full control. Something Soraya wasn't used to giving up.

Something she sure as fuck wasn't use to liking.

But from Peter…oh, she fucking loved this.

His fingers pushed aside the thin fabric of her underwear, his fingers sinking in to test her readiness before curling and stroking back out. Why was he surprised by the wetness? Soraya's hands braced the side of the desk, her face trying to bury itself in the wood as he in turn buried himself in her. Expletives not meant for decent company fell from her mouth with each brutal thrust. The feeling of his worn denim jeans against her ticklish thighs bringing a smile to her already dampening face.

His grip finally released from her throat, choosing instead to run down her shoulder and unzip the back of her dress. He needed more skin. Once his task was completed he let his tongue lick up the center of her shoulder blades before splaying his hand there. He kept her pinned, scratching at the skin he knew would for some reason heal.

He wanted her to feel it. The anger, the frustration. He wanted her to feel how twisted she had him, and how merciless she was.

This was what it was like loving Soraya Harman.

He pulled down the strap of her bra, admiring the tan skin that lay so soft and untouched under it before gnawing at the soft flesh till it was red and raised. His grip in her hair tightened, pulling her face to the side. A bruising kiss met her lips, swallowing her chants of _fucks_ and _yeses_. He felt her fist orgasm, acknowledged the second, but the third…. by the third she was clawing at the desk, her nails leaving marks her gasps of breaths limiting the moans she could make.

He wouldn't stop until she fucking said it. Until she said his name. And just when Peter couldn't hold back any longer, that honey like voice screamed it like a prayer to god.

His thrusts became shallow and slow, the release well earned. And when he was done and spent, Peter caressed her back and sides with a gentleness much more like him. His sweating head and damp hair cooling her overheated back as they rest against it.

Soraya stared at the black board, trying to catch her breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was a ferociousness she'd never felt before. Not even from Roman.

It was hard, fast, and unrelenting, and each time she tried to stifle her orgasm it made him angrier and more passionate.

She liked the new Peter…

Him, not so much.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was too rough."

"No. No-" She dreamily smiled. "We all have monsters inside of us. Sometimes they win. Sometimes that's not a bad thing. In fact sometimes its fucking great!" She breathed in the scent of sex that fumed the air. The ache in her thighs well earned. "We should do this more often." She raised herself up, stumbling as her legs tried to regain their strength. Peter stepped back and readjusted himself. The two of them cleaning up and fixing their appearance.

Peter tried to avoid looking her in the eye but when she grabbed his head and kissed him with a renewed passion he didn't have much of a choice. She placed a final kiss, a soft peck, to his lips before walking away. "You're still an idiot. And an ass!"

He wondered if she would have been in such a rush to leave if he told her this was goodbye...

Probably not. But he'd like to wish it were true.

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **This chapter is dedicated to my precious Tumblr wives. Ya'll know who you are. You keep this story going. As do the reviews. Hint hint.  
**

 **On a lighter note: Yes this is officially an OT3 endgame situation.**

 **PS: This chapter is shit because I had to rewrite the entire thing (trust me it drains your eagerness) because FF was a twat and didn't save anything before locking me out. Also, looking for a Beta, and not the werewolf kind.**


	7. 1x03: Withering Hearts

**I apologize in advanced for this subpar chapter. Please don't stop reading because of it. :/  
**

 **-:I:-**

* * *

I don't have a skin like you do  
To keep it all in like you do  
I don't have a soul like you  
The only one I have  
Is the one I stole from you

London Grammar : Stay Awake

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **The Order of the Dragon  
**

 _ **Withering Hearts  
**_

* * *

"The Vargulf is dangerous but short-lived. It's like any other disease. It only gets stronger until it consumes you."

"So he's gonna kill again?"

Destiny Rumancek hummed a confirmation as she poured her tea. She wasn't sure what had her younger cousin skipping school to come question her about werewolves gone rogue but she wasn't exactly complaining either. "He won't stop until he destroys himself, which really in the end is what he wants the most." Seeing the contemplation in her cousin's eyes she made sure to give him the honest truth. "Don't get me wrong, this isn't mild-mannered Bruce Banner. This is Norman Bates. Just stay out of the way and let nature take its course."

Peter tapped his fingertips against the kitchen counter, his hopeful eyes betraying his careless tone. "But I mean, theoretically, there's no way to help him even if we knew who it was?"

"Have you been sniffing rubber cement?" Destiny nearly laughed. "Why are you talking like this?"

"I'm just saying, if we knew who it was..."

"Well, then yeah. I'd put a bullet between his eyes before the next turn."

Peter seemed to consider the suggestion as he gave a "Hm."

"Hm?" Destiny picked up on it's tone. "What are you not telling me?"

Peter paused in his finger tapping and observed his cousin. Like most Rumancek's, Destiny had dark chestnut hair and light eyes. Destiny's, like her father Vince's, were a dark grey. And like her father, Destiny's eyes saw more than just their spiritual plane. A con artist she might be, but when it came to psychics and witches, Destiny was the real deal. Peter knew if there was a person to help him, it would be her. Now he just hoped she'd be willing to help once he told her...

"There's this Upir."

Destiny's grey eyes doubled in size. "What?"

Peter was quick to try and calm her. "He's this kid at my school but I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know it."

"You've asked him?!"

"Jesus Christ! No, I haven't asked him!" Seeing where this was going, Peter made himself comfortable in the living room. " But he's confused. And I would know if he was bullshitting me!" Peter had quickly picked up on the fact Soraya was the skilled liar of the two. While Roman's manipulation came from him Upir blood, Soraya's manipulation was self taught. He was honestly surprised she hadn't said more to get him to agree to it. Actually, he was surprised they wanted to do anything in the first place…

Plucking a cigarette from his pack, Peter was considerably more morose at the thought of them. "I don't know, he's trying to be the good guy or something..."

"What the fuck are you and an Upir having a heart-to-heart about good guys and bad guys for?!" Destiny followed him into the living room, perching herself on the couch.

"Maybe because I'm fucking his live in concubine for starters." Peter couldn't keep the sarcastic smile from his face. The reminder of it leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Do you think I'm just blood capsules and parlor tricks?" Destiny peered closer at her cousin, her laser like gaze forcing his attention. "Hey! You're my cousin and I love you, but do not make me go in there!"

A silence fell over the apartment.

"They know."

The words were simple and short, yet managed to shake Destiny to her core.

Swallowing, she glared at the werewolf. "How much do they know?"

"They were there for the last turn."

"What the fuck, Peter?!" Destiny lashed out in a vicious strike. Peter flinched at the sting radiating from his leg. "The one thing that you don't ever, ever tell anyone with your feet on hot coals - you only let an Upir watch?!"

"You were not there!" Peter argued. She should try trying to say no to those two after a week of being stared at and watched. If he didn't cave and give Roman what he wanted, her would have driven him insane.

"I certainly wasn't."

"There's this thing. I don't know. Me and him...we have the same dreams. And then there's Soraya..." Destiny's brows furrowed at the way his tone changed into something softer. Like a prayer. "She-she brings it out when I'm with her."

"What out?"

"The wolf? I don't know. I mean when I'm with her it's like... my heart won't stop racing. Everything goes into overdrive" Peter's eyes glazed over remembering the sweet smell of Soraya's hair, the soft flesh of her back, the taste of her neck... An hour old memory suddenly felt like years ago.

"Oh, my god." Destiny's dropped jaw shook Peter from his mind.

"What?"

"You've never had real friends before."

A grimace met Peter's features. "Soraya's not my friend." She had made that very clear...

"That's worse, sweetie." Destiny took his jittery hand in hers. Looking into his eyes she gave him the best advice she could. "If you're right? This girl...she's not good for you." She shook her head. "She's gonna burn you up" Peter chortled. What a fitting analogy for her. "-before you even know what hit you, Peter." When she turned his palm over, desperately looking for answers, he snatched it back.

They had a golden rule: you don't push into other people's business unless they ask you to. Palm readings included!

Destiny didn't know if it was the violation of this rule or the suggestion he leave his girlfriend that had his face twisted up in such agitation. "Run. Run before it's too late for you."

Peter's mouth opened, his heart wanting him to argue he should stay but his mind telling him she was right.

If only it was that easy...

* * *

"Come on, Honey. Let's get out of here before nightfall." Lynda called from her bedroom. After foolishly telling his mother of Destiny's warning they had decided it best to leave town for a while. If things settled down, then maybe they could come back to finish Peter's senior year. For now, though, it was safest for them to run while they could.

Peter shoved the last of his shirts in the box. Looking around the room his gaze fell to the bed. An onslaught of memories can spiraling at him. From that first night she lead him to it to the morning he had stumbled in half dead. Soraya was in his head. He moans and light laughter turning to screams and shoves as she ordered him to stay and clean up the mess the Vargulf had made.

Was she right? Had he led it here? Had it somehow been drawn to him, attacking only when it felt his wolf arrive?

No. No, he couldn't think like that. Closing the corners of the box, he stepped over Casper the cat and headed for the car. With just the living room and secret stash to pack up they should be out of here in thirty minutes.

Even though his mind was pestered by thought of Roman and Soraya, he felt he was making the right choice. At least he thought he did until he exited the trailer.

Peter took a quick step back, his hands fumbling to readjust their grip on the box that had nearly fallen out of his grip. At the top of the stairs that lead to the road, Soraya leaned against the rusty railing. Her arms were crossed with a folder in her grasp. Her angelic face morphed into a cold hazardous glare.

 _Shee-it..._

Taking a deep breath he steeled himself for the confrontation about to take place. His eyes kept to the ground, watching each stair pass underneath him as her lethal glare pierced into him. He passed her on the stairs without a word, hearing her heels click against the rough asphalt as she turned with him. Not a word. He put the box in the car, making sure to take his time adjusting things to fit. Still not a word.

If there was ever a woman to kill you with silence it was Soraya Harman. Slamming the car door closed he bit his lips and faced her.

She was magnificent when she was furious. Her face and posture may have been uncaring but her eyes...they glowed with a fire from the hell she was wishing upon him. "Raya-"

"Save it." She stepped back from his reaching hand. Instead the folder of papers was pushed into his palm. The rest of his notes, Peter realized. That twisting feeling was back. "If you wanted a goodbye fuck all you had to do was ask. No need to pretend you were gonna stay." In a dull voice Peter asked, would she have. Knowing the answer but just wanting to hear more of her voice. It was her silence that hurt him most. "No." She clipped. "I don't fuck pussies." He was wrong...

His jaw tensed and twitched, those innocent blue eyes narrowing into slits as he looked at her. So calm and composed. So alluring and put together. She didn't have a worry in the world. Not a real one. And the fact she couldn't muster any real emotion...it drove him mad.

He was leaving, god damn it, and he wanted her to twist from the inside just like he was. When she started for her car, he snapped. The folder was tossed to the ground, the residing slap of it distracting her enough for him to close the distance between them.

His hands gripped her face tightly, keeping her head still as his lips merged with hers. The volatile outburst provoked a sharp intake of breath as she kissed back. It was habitual for her. He drove her back into the car, her teeth scraped with his. His shirtless torso left her nothing to fist, and thus her nails dug and scraped at his skin in a delirious sting.

When she turned her head away, Peter's hand shifted to her hair, cradling her close as mouth pressed against her ear. It was happening again, everything smelt better, everything sounded clearer, his heart thrummed excessively. "You drive me fucking insane.", he hissed through his bared teeth.

Releasing her, Peter stepped back and rubbed his palms into his eyes and over his face. She provoked this thing inside him. Always wanting more from her. More of her laughter, more of her smiles, more of her touch, her scent, her fucking voice. It was the worst kind of addiction. One that craved you back. And Destiny was able to see it all by one look at his palm.

And just like always, she stood there, looking completely unaffected. Completely detached from whatever was happening. He both loved and hated it.

"So are you staying?" Her tone was rigid and uncaring. Her posture, other than her disheveled hair, was once more corrected and cross.

"NO!" A laugh interrupted his groan.

Callous, she just shrugged. "Why not?"

"Jesus Christ, you two!" He laughed humorlessly. "You still don't fucking get it, do you?!" He stepped towards her again, Soraya shifting her weight from one foot to another as he stood before her. "It's not a stray dog. It's a killer. A vicious blood crazed killer. And when, WHEN, it draws the fucking cops here, it's not your rich asses on the line!"

That seemed to garner a reaction.

Leaning in close to him, Soraya's nose brushed his as she smiled deviously. Let him consider this his goodbye fuck. "Fuck you, Peter." She gave him a hard push backward, clearing the way for her door. She was more upset than he thought possible. Her cheeks tinging a red and the tendon in her neck jumping in a twitch. She seemed almost hurt by the finality of it.

But that wasn't possible as she didn't have a heart.

However, Peter did, and seeing her in such a state hurt his more than he thought could. "Soraya!"

"Get the fuck out, Peter." The heiress put on her sunglasses and adjusted her hair. "Just don't expect to be let back in."

"Are you threatening me?" His hands gripped the

"Oh Peter, I don't threaten people. I just let them know what exactly gonna happen. Spoilers!" She grinned. Without much warning she put the car into drive, Peter jumping back to avoid getting his toes run over.

 _"Peter! Come get this last box please!"_ Lynda called from the trailer's door. Scratching at his beard Peter gave one last look to the road. He wanted to leave with a happy memory of her. Now all he could think about was her anger. _"Now Peter!"_

* * *

When Shelly told him Soraya had been locked away in her room for hours, he knew shit was about to hit the fan.

Soraya Harman had four levels of fury.

Level one was mild annoyance. She dealt with this as she stabbed at the soul with her barbed tongue and cutting words.

Level two was seething aggravation. When it had gotten to this level a physical release was mandatory. Whether in a physical fight or a ferocious fuck depended on who is was she was angry with.

And then there was the rarely reached level.

Level three: the eye of the storm. This most dangerous of levels, Soraya secluded herself away in a calm and cold rage while the fires she set burned the world around her.

You did not ever want to reach level four...

He had reached level _three_ only once. And he could swear it was not going to be pretty.

But the cold biting tone was not what met his ears once she sensed his presence. In fact, it was more broken than anything.

"He left. He tucked his dick between his legs and ran."

Roman leaned his head against the door frame. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the mess in front of him. Soraya sat at the edge of her bed, a lone high heel in her hand. Around her littered the contents of her giant closet. Two Shelley sized piles took up the bed and the hardwood floor were hidden beneath an assortment of fabrics and articles. The he couldn't see her face he was sure it was twisted up in that bewildered little scrunch it did every time she tried to comprehend something that just didn't fit.

He had left them.

He had left _HER_.

If the thought was confusing to Roman, it was probably incredulous to Soraya.

Unsure if her snake was slithering around underneath the mess, Roman was careful in his steps as he met her on the other side of the bed. Like with his sister, he crouched before her, his touch gentle as he gripped her crestfallen face and lifted it to meet his. A soft kiss was placed on her cheek. "He's a fucking idiot." His lips glided against her own. "A complete fucking idiot." Roman kissed her with a lesser passion than normal, knowing she wasn't in the mood for their roundabout but hated being treated with kid gloves.

The little crease between her brows lessened until finally it faded. Kissing him back, her fingers toyed with the thin material of his wife beater. "I thought he was different." She whispered.

Roman didn't know what to say to that, the sadness in her eyes unexpected as they stared at the fabric of his shirt. "I thought he'd-" She didn't finish, the crease between her brows returning.

The shoe in her hand fell to the floor, her eyes observing the mess she had made before catching her own reflection in the vanity. She always dressed so nice. Always looked to beautiful.

 _Why didn't he stay?_

"Fuck him." Was all Roman could offer. "Lemme take you shopping."

Soraya smiled with honest mirth. Clothes didn't seem to fix things. "So can pick out trashy lingerie and ask me to model it?" She knocked her head against his. Roman puffed a closed mouth laugh.

"Trashy?"

"You always pick purple."

"I think you're exquisite in purple."

"My color is red." She glowered halfheartedly.

"I know." Roman's hand ran up her thigh. "But if you were in red, I wouldn't be able to control myself." He kissed her a bit harder this time, his tongue teasing at the seam of her lips before she opened herself to him. He pushed forward, laying her back one of the piles as he crouched over her.

Soraya stroked his face with affection as they pulled apart, her thumb rubbing circles over the sharp cheekbone. "I'm suddenly in the mood for some shopping and an ice cream."

Roman's head fell against her shoulder, kissing down to the valley of her breast before straightening himself. Offering her a hand, he helped her up. "Whatever you wish."

"You'll let me pick out clothes for you too?"

Roman's hangover was nearly cured but the idea of spending four hours being redressed time and time again brought a new migraine to him. "Why the fuck not?" He forced a smile.

* * *

There was something intimidating about the Godfrey mansion that rested atop the hill. It towered over most of the homes in the area, maintaining constant visual around the rich suburbs of Hemlock Grove. At night Peter would sometimes look to it's massive shadow, and wonder which of the lights were Soraya's. He was sure it was the large windowed one near the left end, it's usually late lit glow always calling to him. Even now he felt his eyes ease up to it as he made his way up the hill. Looking around at the immaculate lawn, he saw how effective it was in keeping solicitors away.

He rang the doorbell, listening to the delicate chime that came from inside the house. The light tone a stark contrast to overbearing boldness of the rest of the home and yard. When the black door opened, his fingers twitched in nerves. The woman who answered it wasn't who he was expecting.

There was only one possibility. Roman's mother: Olivia. She didn't remind him of either of her children. Her face was too elegant and sharp to look like Shelley and her hair and eyes too dark and cold to remind him of Roman.

 _"There is such darkness that it shines."_

Peter's stance shifted in discomfort. So his mother was the Upir...

Olivia took one look at his patched jeans and vest and knew who stood at her doorstep. Her practiced smile covered her sneer. "Yes?"

"Is Roman here? Or Soraya?" He quickly added, realizing Roman might be a bit pissed at him. "She lives her right?"

"That's correct. May I ask who's calling?"

"It's Peter."

Olivia's head tilted in thought. "Hmm. They've never mentioned you."

While he sensed Olivia's barely constrained hatred, he didn't doubt they wouldn't consider him important enough to speak about. "We share the same English class."

Olivia regarded him with a look of apathy. "And this is in regard to?"

"Study group."

"Actual study group or Soraya's _study group_?"

" _Actual_ study group." He reminded himself to keep his polite and friendly deposition no matter how much she seemed to provoke him.

"Ah! Wuthering Heights, is it?" Peter nodded as Olivia stepped closer, leaning against the doorway as she brought the door closer. "Se tell me then, gypsy orphan Heathcliff: Byronic hero or proto-Marxist class warrior?"

Peter's smile faded, a shiver running up his spine the longer she stared at him for an answer. Whether Roman knew what he was or not, he had to have known his mother wasn't entirely human. When her dark brow raised for an answer peter

"I'm still on chapter one."

"Yes. I suppose you are. It doesn't end well for him." She whispered. "Well! I'm afraid neither of them are home at the moment, so I will tell them you stopped by. Uh, Paul, was it?"

Peter looked to his left, Roman's bright red car and Soraya's black Mercedes parked not fifty feet from him. "It's Peter." He snappishly corrected.

"Yeah, well, nice to meet you, Peter." The matriarch attempted to close the door but was stopped by a feminine voice that made her want to cringe.

"Olivia..." Her name was drawn out in scolding from behind her.

The terse edge to it made Olivia's eyes close to keep their rolling a secret. "Your Catherine coming to the rescue", she whispered to the ragged boy. Turning to the two teenagers she opened the door wider as she walked past. Soraya and her exchanging cold side eyed looks. "You have a caller."

"Yes, we see that. Thank you so much for tending to him."

"Of course." She grinned before leaning in, her still bared a hairs breath from Soraya's ear. "Now get it the hell out of my house." She whispered to the girl. Clearly believing it was her and sexual exploits that lead the gutter rat here.

"Fuck off." She mumbled, walking away from the fuming woman before blocking the door.

"Did you make a wrong turn?" She batted her eyelashes innocently, still not ready to forgive. "The exit out of town is that way."

Peter bite his lip but didn't take the bait. "We need to talk." Without much warning he pushed past her, only furthering her rage as he continued left into the billiards room. The eye of the storm had passed. She was ready for something destructive. And had it not been for Roman's grip around her waist, she would have succeeded in following him and guiding her foot up his ass.

Pushing off of him, he held up his own hands in a sign of defense, not quite willing so sufferer her wrath to protect Peter. Straightening her shirt she glared at the seemingly oblivious boy before turning towards Roman. "I'm taking Letha shopping. We'll pick up Shelley later and have dinner. Feel free to join us once you take the trash out." She placed a quick kiss on Roman's cheek, the scowl she directed at Peter's back was message enough she didn't want him here when she came back.

The next thing either of them knew her coat was gone and the front door slammed shut. "Where's she going?" Peter observed her Black Mercedes-Benz roll out of the drive way.

Staring at the fleeing tail end himself, Roman waved it off. "You don't need to worry about that." He turned his hooded gaze to Peter, the gypsy boy looking regretful. "What you need to worry about is what sick torture she's gonna think up for you when she comes back."

Peter shoulders dropped even more, his eyes rolling up into his head but for a moment. Fuck...

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **Thank you for those amazing reviews! I feel horrible for putting out a subpar chapter but I just couldn't get into it but each scene had to be done. I'll do better, I promise. :) I dedicate this chapter to SarcasticEngima and Ferallahey, thanks for the help!  
**

 **And for those of you who don't know: SEASON 3 PREMIERES ON OCTOBER 23RD! *dancing***

 **And if you're interested to look it up for the Wuthering Heights references:**

 **Peter as Heathcliff , Soraya as Catherine , and Roman as Edgar.**


	8. 1x04: Birthright (MA)

**-:I:-**

* * *

If you want my future, forget my past  
If you wanna get with me, better make it fast  
Now don't go wasting my precious time  
Get your act together we could be just fine

Neon Hitch : Wannabe (Cover)

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **In Poor Taste**

 ** _Birthright_**

* * *

 _"Give her a few days. Don't talk to her. Try not to look at her."_

 _"How is that helping?"_

 _"Just shut up and trust me."_

Peter followed through on Roman's ridiculous order. It seemed insane, but if anyone knew Soraya enough to help him get back in her good graces, it was Roman. So he did as he was told and discreetly observed as she went on with her day per normal except with a firm line marring her pretty face instead of her usual smirk or smile. Discreetly being a lose term, as everyone around him noticed his love sick staring. It didn't take long for the word to spread that Rumancek was no longer Soraya's boy toy. The increase in passive aggressive shoulder bumps and not-so-whispered insults didn't bother Peter nearly as much as Soraya's complete disinterest.

 _"Leave her flowers. Don't talk to her, don't add anything like a note either. Just flowers. Something red!" He snapped his fingers as an afterthought._

Peter watched from behind the corner of the hallway as Soraya slowed to a stop in front of her locker. With a tentative head tilt she picked up small bouquet of roses. Her slim fingers gently caressed the edges of a petal, her hooded gaze turning into a slight glare as her eyes sharply turned to their corner. The werewolf jumped back and out of sight, pausing for a moment before peeking once more. He nearly crashed into the prey of his stalking as she rounded the corner. Peter flattened himself against the wall with his hands held up in defense, his gaze lowered to the floor. Luckily his shaggy hair helped to hide his smile. She may have been pissed but she cradling the flowers with care. Maybe Roman wasn't full of it...

 _"Sit next to her in class. Don't-"_

 _"Talk to her or look at her?" Peter finished with a attitude of bitter disbelief._

 _"Exactly."_

It took all of his strength to ignore her but he somehow managed it. Every time she shifted or crossed her legs or began biting on the end of her pen, he was overcome with the sudden urge just to look at her face. After four days time, he was sure he was beginning to forget what she looked like. A ridiculous idea, as every curve, mole, and color feature of her was burned into his memory, but nerve wracking all the same. Still, he held strong.

 _"And by the week's end, when she finally looks at you, then you get on your fucking knees and beg for forgiveness. Don't ask. Fucking Beg." Roman tried to make that part clear._

It was Thursday evening when it happened. Crossing paths in the hallway, Peter was unprepared for those multicolored eyes flickering to him. It was a brief and simple look but when he caught it he felt the world righting itself around him. Standing in the hall like an idiot he was too shocked to do what he was supposed to. And when he found himself in the near empty hallway, he made a fool of himself running to catch up with her.

Five days, four cold glares, three ranting apologies, and two eye rolls later, Peter found himself back in Soraya Harman's good graces with a single kiss. And when she gave him that little predatory smirk as they parted, Peter felt like he could breath again.

* * *

It wasn't long after getting out of the dog house Peter found himself staring into it's dark depths once more.

Not three days ago, Roman had informed him Soraya's birthday was fast approaching. The werewolf had spent nearly every waking moment since then trying to think of a gift. He had only just landed back in Soraya's good graces. Now he was afraid not living up to her expectations would kick him out once more. What kind of gift do you get the girl that can have anything? Did she even expect a gift? Did she even know they knew it was her birthday? Was she trying to keep it a secret? Did she even want to celebrate it? What if even giving her a gift in the first place was wrong?

 _Jesus._

Peter gave himself a headache going in this circle for days; thinking about Soraya, thinking about her birthday, thinking about their relationship, and repeat. So, here he found himself the night before, sitting on his cousin's couch and pleading with god to let things go as planned.

"Done?"

"Will you chill out." Destiny raided her purse for the box. Peter had been around enough women to know their purses were some Mary Poppins shit, pulling out more shit than any purse could ever seem to hold. Seeing his cousin dig through her large hobo bag was nothing knew, but when even she seemed to be having trouble locating the precious cargo, Peter grew anxious.

"Destiny?!"

"Here!" She held out the small white box to him. Peter gave a heavy sigh, taking it from her and holding it in his hand carefully. Not much bigger than his palm, the cardboard was plain and nothing special, a parcel that was easy to look over. Then again it was what it held _inside_ it that made him so twitchy. His finger tapped against the top, wanting to check it one more time but knowing if he did he'd find something he wanted to change yet again.

His indecisiveness was hard to miss. And hoping to alleviate his panic, Destiny reassured him. "It's beautiful Peter." She rolled her eyes. It was the third one of it's kind and at this point had he asked her to change something she was pretty sure someone would lose a hand.

Her words brought him little comfort. She may think it beautiful, but was it _Soraya_ beautiful? "I know it's nice, but is it Soraya nice?" Peter put the gift on the table. Leaning back, he rubbed at his face. Why was this so stressful?

Destiny admired her younger cousin. All heart, that one. She understood Peter wanted his gift to be perfect for his not-girlfriend, but after calling in three of her favors with their cousin Dimitri to have him make it, she was a little less enthusiastic than he. "If it's not good enough for her, she's not good enough for you."

Peter peaked through his fingers in disbelief. That seemed to be a bit backwards. Slapping his hands against his thighs he sat forward with a dubious smile. "Do you even hear yourself?" She wasn't good enough for him? The thought made Peter chortle.

The psychic rolled her eyes. Exasperation clouded her features as she sighed. It just proved how Peter deserved better than the girl who wouldn't even let him call her his girlfriend. And she didn't miss the way Peter had to correct himself, almost as if reminding himself of the fact. Poor sweet boy… "I just…Me and Lynda don't think Soraya's a good match for you."

Peter's entire body went still before laughter shook his body. "Good match? What?! I thought we didn't do arranged marriages anymore."

"It's not a joke, Peter." At Destiny's empathetic tone, Peter became defensive.

"What are you talking about?" Soraya made him happy. Very confused, but happy all the same.

"Peter!" Destiny firmly called for his attention. "Soraya Harman is not a girl you want to get involved with."

Peter's eyebrows shot up. "A little late for that, cuz."

Destiny took Peter's hand in her own, gripping it tight so he couldn't pull away. Peter saw the worry in her eyes and let her. "Peter, I hate to say this, but there are no happy endings for you with her." Like she thought, he tried to pull his hand away. Destiny stayed firm. "Girls like Soraya Harman don't have their happy ever afters with boy like you."

Peter repeated what Soraya had told him many times before. "There aren't girls like Soraya Harman." He ripped himself from her grip and pocketed the box in his leather jacket. "Thanks for the favor, cuz." He spit the word with venom. He came to her for a favor, he didn't expect to be cornered and have his girlfriend attacked. His hurt showed in his big blue eyes narrowed nearly into slits. Destiny came to a grave conclusion then.

"Are you in love with her, Peter?" Destiny yelled at his back. The werewolf stopped but didn't respond. His heart raced and his hands felt clammy. The gift in his pocket suddenly felt heavy. He looked at the pocket that held it before casting his gaze to the floor.

"Don't be. Please, don't be." She pleaded with him. Her cousin was indeed all heart. And Destiny was sure Soraya Harman was going to break it. "And if you think you're falling in love with her...run."

Peter's gaze turned upwards, looking for answers that wouldn't come to him. "Maybe I'm tired of running."

* * *

The next morning brought with it little reassurance. The gypsy boy paid no mind to the large crowd moving about around him. Like him, student rushed to get books in and out for classes about to start mere minutes from now. Thought his impending test and probably pop quiz weren't what was occupying Peter's thought. It was the white box that still rest in his jacket pocket. He began to regret not wrapping it. Maybe he still had time. But then where would he- two warm hands wound themselves around Peter's lower stomach before grazing just inside the line of his boxers. The motion made his cock twitch and the werewolf jump. "Jesus!"

"I prefer Mistress if we're talking pet names." Soraya pushed against him, pinning him against the lockers. She slid one hand under and up his shirt, fingers gently tickling up his hairy chest before her nails lightly scratched down. Peter shivered and looked around the still very crowded hallway as she put her lips hairs away from his. "Your notes."

"My...my what?" He lost focus, staring into those hooded eyes. The cold silver ball of her labret piercing tingled against the underside of his lip.

So close yet so far... As soon as he tried to seal them, Soraya had pulled away and pushed a folder of paper into his chest. "The notes you requested."

Peter had called her late last night, suddenly overcome with the dire need to hear her voice for reasons he couldn't yet explain. Of course when she actually answered, barley able to hear him over the sound of the club she and Roman were at, he had to give a reason better than that. So he claimed he had lost his notes. He never expected her to actually get him for him...

"Oh yeah." But Peter had no real interest in the painstakingly copied notes. Poor Xander was up all night making them meticulously detailed for, who he assumed, would be Soraya. And if either of them had bothered to read them he might have found the detailed poem he had left for the girl.

"What's with the sudden interest in Chemistry?"

"Uh...none actually." He put the notes in the locker with the rest of his books. He pulled his jacket from the space before slamming and locking it.

"What?" Soraya's brows furrowed. Peter took her hand in his and began to lead her down the hall.

"Come to town with me."

"What?" She laughed. Peter stopped short, Soraya topping on her heels before bumping into his back. At the other end of the hall Peter could hear the mention of a party. Notice of a part always found their way to Soraya, except this was one party she wasn't supposed to know anything about. Spinning around, he saw Soraya tuck back her hair before leading her back in the direction they had come from. "Peter, what the fuck?!"

"Sorry." He apologized tugging her down the side hallway.

"Peter!" Soraya stopped short just feet from the exit. Peter could see there get away so close. Roman had given him one job. Find her and get her out of school as soon as possible. It seemed to be an easy task in theory, but now that Soraya's suspicions were alerted Peter felt like the walls and gossiping crowds were closing in on them. "I'm loving the whole take charge thing." Soraya smirked remembering how it ended last time. "-but I think."

"Stop thinking." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along once more.

This time Soraya couldn't help but laugh as she ran alongside him. Anything was better than class but still she couldn't help but ask, "Where are we going?"

* * *

"Not a fan."

"What does that even mean? Who doesn't like ice cream?!"

"I like the ice cream just fine. It's the children I'm not a fan of." Soraya's nose creased as her face pinched as they stood outside the Nutty Chocolatire. The spontaneous offer to get her ice cream was nice, but at the sight of at least ten children young children running around with the sugary substance melted on their face and hands had made Soraya stop short. "Stinky, sticky, messy, children." She cringed as she saw one lick a fallen spoonful off the table.

"Fine. You can stay out here where it's-"

"Quiet, clean, not infectious with-"

Peter sighed to himself with a fond smile. "What do you want?"

"Children to fear me and stay at least fifty feet away at all time." Soraya glared at one child that wouldn't look away from her.

"I meant flavor wise but goals are always nice."

"Surprise me." She shrugged. Peter nodded and entered the store, passing by the group of mothers and children without a care. Outside, Soraya continued her glare off with a child. The little boy's own eyes narrowed in challenge, thinking before opening his mouth and showing her what looked to be half eaten ice cream and a mess of mashed cookie topping. "I hope you choke." She mumbled to herself. The little boy's mother saw what he was doing and quickly scolded him before waving to Soraya in apology. At least she began to...

Seeing the young girl with painted red lips, the mother's gaze turned to apologetic to judgmental. The overweight and underhelped woman nudged her friend, pointing to Soraya's outfit of heels and black mini dress in winter before saying something with a glare. Soraya smirked and held up one perfectly manicured middle finger.

If there was one thing she did appreciate about children it was there need to rebel and be the first to do something. Upon seeing the motion and hearing their parent's exclamations, they all began to copy the motion. The angrier their parents got the more they began to wave the middle digit in the air, laughing without a single care.

"Jesus Christ." Peter emerged from the now chaotic store. "Parents really do love you." He handed her a Styrofoam bowl similar to his own. Handing her a spoon, he began to follow her away from the unruly mob.

"It's a gift." She shrugged once more. Observing her ice cream she noticed he had gone with a safe chocolate. "What is that?" Soraya noticed Peter's didn't look like her own.

"Chocolate with caramel and cookies." He offered her the bowl. Soraya used her sharp tipped stiletto nails to pluck one mini oreo from the bowl and popped it into her mouth. Continuing down the road they exited the line of storefronts and took a detour to the boardwalk that surrounded the frozen over lake. "Are you cold?" Peter asked taking note of her outfit as well.

"I don't get cold." Peter's eyebrows jumped not doubting it seeing as standing next to her felt like a sitting by a warm fire compared to the cold winter wind around them. Soraya took another bite of her treat before abruptly changing the subject. "Why today?"

"What do you mean?"

"This little ice cream get away..." Soraya narrowed her eyes. "Who told you?"

"I can't take you out f-?"

"Who told you?" She elbowed him in the ribs. Peter tried to keep a blank face but failed. "Roman" he grinned.

"Fucking Roman." She cursed him under her breath. Taking another spoonful of ice cream, she left it melt in her mouth before waving the plastic spoon threateningly. "I swear to god I might actually kill him this time."

"Who hates celebrating their birthday?!"

"Me! I do! I hate children, and birthdays, and puppies-"

Peter laughed so hard his he nearly dropped his ice cream. "-okay maybe not puppies but-" Peter grabbed the back of her head and led her lips to his. It silenced her well enough, both of them too caught up in the taste of chocolate and caramel meeting.

When he pulled away from her, he placed another quick peck to her lips. "Happy Birthday." Soraya looked down between them to find a white box held in Peter's hand. Taking the offering, she looked at the werewolf with utter surprise. "Open it." He prompted. The box was in no way special or worth a second look, so the carefulness in which Soraya undid the tabs to open it made Peter worry. Soraya found a light blue stone emerging from the protective fluff around it. Pushing said fluff aside she picked up the silver medallion that surrounded the stone, a long silver chain following after it. The necklace was plain other than the stone in front, but on the back was inscribed words and symbols she didn't understand.

It wasn't front row tickets to Marina and the Diamonds Letha had gotten her. It wasn't the exotic red phase African bush viper Shelley and Price had picked out for her. And it certainly wasn't the one of a kind Lucita Abarca firebird ash heels that actually sparked fire when she ran them back against a floor, nor was it the ten bouquets of red roses hiding various diamond rings and necklaces Roman had placed in her room to wake up with. This necklace was simple and paled in comparison with the gifts the Godfrey children had given her. And yet she found it to be the gift that made her utterly speechless in the best way possible.

Peter could barely hear her over her breathy sigh. "Peter it's-"

"A protection pendant. Made and blessed for good luck. Uh, the stone-"

"Reminds me of your eyes." Soraya smiled, caressing the light blue stone. Peter grinned from besides her, his heart beat still racing but his stomach not flipping anymore. "I love it." She finally admitted it. Peter motioned to be handed the necklace. She tentatively handed it over, almost as if she was afraid he'd take it away before turning her back to him. Peter was careful to avoid pinching her hair as he clasped it behind her. Peter pulled her hair over the necklace and to the side, exposing her elegant neck to him. His heart hammered in his chest as words formed on his tongue. Words that once said he couldn't take back.

He heaved a sigh. Cowardliness won out in the end and instead he wished her a "Happy birthday" once more before placing a soft kiss to her jaw and down her neck.

Soraya fondled the necklace carefully as she admired it falling between her breasts. It wasn't her style, but it was… she couldn't describe the feeling of it.

Instead she caressed Peter's cheek with such care. The kiss she placed to his lips this time was different from the others. And for once Peter saw none of that predatory gaze. It was pure raw emotion. No lust. No wall. No carefully veiled threat. It was Soraya at her rawest and Peter would forever remember that moment every time he pictured her till the end of his days.

That was the moment Peter Rumancek fell in love with Soraya Harman.

* * *

"Yep, definitely going to kill him." Soraya stood before the closed club doors. Peter scratched at his jaw, a nervous habit he had. Behind them, Roman finally caught up from order the valet to keep his car nearby.

"Kill who?"

"You, you asshole!" Soraya slapped his arm without restraint. Roman winced and rubbed the sore limb. His green eyes narrowed at Peter who in turn held up his hands in defense.

"You told her?"

"I had to! She wouldn't stop asking me questions. Every time I answered she had to change into something new. Roman-" Peter looked at him for understanding, a sadness in his eyes and tone. "-there were _so many_ dressed." He was supposed to get Soraya ready to leave for what was just supposed to be "going out". But as Peter had no idea what the fictitious dress code would be he ended up making it up on the spot. With each new question he answered, Soraya had to change into yet another outfit. Always the center of attention she refused to look anything other than stunning. A task that came to her all too naturally. Still, she needed the right outfit. And by the twelfth outfit change it stopped be sexy and starting be maddening. So he ended his misery and told her exactly where they were going.

"All you had to do was get her here."

"She's here!" Peter threw out his hands as if presenting her.

"Right here." Soraya pointedly corrected. Slapping him once more, this time without malice, Soraya couldn't help but smile at the taller boy. "You set this whole thing up for me?"

Roman stuffed his hands in his dress pants pockets and shrugged. Soraya grabbed his face, bringing it down to close the distance between them with a soft kiss to his lips. Behind them, Peter shifted uncomfortably. It was the first public display of affection that went beyond just close friends. It was a cold shower reminder of Soraya and Roman's ever present coupling. Even if they claimed not to be. Destiny's words tried to nag at the back of his mind before he swiftly pushed them out. Breaking away from the long kiss Soraya smiled that predatory grin. "You're still an ass for telling everyone." She hit him a third and final time. Roman set aside her violent outbursts to wrap his arms around her shoulder and help Peter lead her into the club.

First the colorful lights hit her, then the music, before finally a screamed echoing "Happy Birthday!" was shouted by at least three hundred of the club goers.

"She seems pretty surprised!" Peter called over to Roman. Soraya had to take a step back at the overwhelming feeling of it before she grabbed both of her boys' hands and dragged them towards the bar.

The bartended wasted no time in making his way over to them. "White Russian, whiskey on the rocks, and…" Soraya paused to look at Peter.

"Beer."

"You heard the man. We'll be at my usual table." She ordered.

Usual table? Peter looked around the club with closer eyes, mostly dark it's purple and red lighting gave visibility while still keeping more booths and tables in the shadows. Other than the plush leather in the high ring like booths, everything was a smooth clean black granite and steel. It certainly looked their sort of club, further proven by the consumption of cocaine just a few booths over from the corner one they had settled in.

Even though it was his arm Soraya wrapped her arms around, Peter still couldn't help but feel like the third wheel here. With a simple clean t shirt and dress shirt under his brown vest, the most dressed up he could manage was patchless jeans and relatively clean boots. He was nowhere close to matching Soraya's short black skirt and cropped mauve turtleneck. Roman on the other hand, with his black dress shirt, pants, and shined leather shoes looked the perfect escort for the guest of honor. Peter couldn't grab the beer the waitress brought over soon enough. Eyes retuning to the center of all his thoughts, he watched as Roman's arm wrapped low around her bare waist, his thumb stroking small circles under the edge of her top. The rich duo raised their glasses to well wishes as they passed, subtly trying to tell those brave enough to do so in the first place that they weren't to be interrupted. Peter took a long swallow off his beer as Roman's head lowered to Soraya's ear. So regal looking it almost hurt.

"If wouldn't be able to stop staring at my tits either, but don't start something you won't finish. She nipped at his ear lobe, missing the focus of his low gaze. When Neon Hitch's cover of Wannabe come on, Soraya pulled at Peter's vest. "Come dance with me." She ordered. Peter wasn't much in the mood for dancing at the moment. Not that he knew how to dance very well in the first place. "Boo." She pouted at him. Turning to Roman, her slight frown was all it took for him to scoot out of the booth and hold his hand out for hers. Yet another mistake, Peter would soon realize, as Roman and Soraya ended up losing track of time when alone together.

They were like a storm, those two. When you were in the center, the eye of it, all seemed calmed. But when you were on the outside or caught on the edge, all you could do was watch the chaos unfold and hope you made it through the night.

The duo found a rhythm effortlessly, leaving Peter to watch as all eyes turned on them.

 _If you wanna be my lover, you gotta fuck with my friends  
You might not last forever so, wait till the end  
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give  
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is_

It started innocently enough, for Soraya at least. Her hands on his shoulders and his on her lower waist, they swayed back and forth to the beat of the song. But when the beat picked Soraya sharply spun around and bent low, miraculously managing to stay on her tall heels as she dipped low to the floor, before slowly moving up. Her ass firmly pressed against Roman's crotch, the Upir thoughtlessly moved his hand up her sides and over her stomach until they practically gripped her breasts. The movements they made together and the looks and smiles they exchanged belonged more in a skinamax movie then on a mostly crowded dance floor.

Beer in hand, Peter was unable to look away from the dancers, in part because he was mesmerized by the subtle sway and roll of Soraya's hips and taunt stomach. He was so invested in fact, he didn't notice the girl claim the now empty seats beside him. She however, didn't miss his blatant staring. Oblivious to who he was, like most people in the club, she misread the situation and tried to do a good deed for the day by sparing him unwanted heartache.

"That's Roman Godfrey and Soraya Harman." She leaned in a little too close for his licking.

Peter leaned back, his eye brows raising in an expression of acknowledgement and slight annoyance. "I know."

"Right, sorry, of course you do." She shook her head at her own slip up. "Everybody does. They either want to be them or fuck them." She looked at the couple still dancing before eyeing Peter with more intensity. Peter knew that look by now. Soraya should have ingrained it in him at least. That was a look of hunter eying prey…

"A, um, word of advice...They sometimes play with others but they always end up back together. If I were you I'd stop swooning over Soraya and put those love sick eyes elsewhere. Like here." She winked at him.

"I'm actually with someone."

"Oh?" Her curiosity was peaked. Who left this lost little lamb all lone for the picking? "Who?"

Peter's eyes traveled back to the dance floor only to find the couple gone. His bright blue eyes searched the club until finding them on the other side of it. Soraya rested on a couch, a white line of powder being sprinkled on her exposed navel by a club goer. "My.." The word girlfriend didn't sit well on his tongue, not when he watched as Roman sniffed the line from her navel to her skirt line before licking the remainder of it. His hand slid up her bare thighs before hiding in her skirt. Peter felt Destiny's warning words punch him in the stomach. But when he looked to Soraya he found her eyes locked solely on his, a smile lifting her lips when his gaze finally met hers. With a curve of her fingers she beckoned him to come join them.

Peter couldn't answer. Instead watching as she tugged Roman's hair in slight warning when his tongue dared to dip below the skirt's waist. Lifting her by the arms they stood, and after a quick round of shots and a wave to their apparent friends, they returned to the dancefloor once more.

"They met here, you know. I was lucky enough to see it. It was like some fucked up fairy tale. Princess Soraya wandered into the ball with a trust fund and a plane ticket, all bored eyes and apathetic gaze. She got hit on by some douche bag and when he wouldn't take the hint Prince Roman came to her rescue." The girl tone was dripping in apathy, not really one for the supposed love story herself, she repeated it the same way it came off from the wishful waitressed who were biter over the loss of the grand prize. "They've been coming in here every few weeks since. Young pretty money brings young pretty crowds, you know? Sometimes they bring a tag along, sometimes they pick one up." The girl looked to Peter, examining him briefly. "Is that what you're after? A night with them?" A wicked grin graced her features, so much like Soraya's yet flat in comparison to the richer girl's sparkle. "I can't say for sure but I promise you you'd probably have more fun with me."

Peter cast her a longer look. Though he wasn't actually considering doing it, he could see the appeal of it. Her brown eyes were large and doe like, her equally dark hair done in soft waves that were easy to run your fingers through. Slim, she had plentiful curves where they counted, all accentuated by her skin tight clothing. Yes, she was appealing. But when his gaze traveled to her lips he was left wanting for a wicked twist that she simply didn't have.

His attention reset to its usual focus point, and when he saw Soraya grin he felt his heart give a beat a bit harder than the rest. She seemed to be having a wonderful time dancing. Back to front they swayed to a rather fast club remix. It was habit really, and act that happened so often and naturally that she gave no thought to it when Roman's lips brushed the side of her face and she turned to meet them.

This time there was no forgetting his cousin's words. "Girls like Soraya Harman don't have their happy ever afters with boy like you." She had warned him.

 _She had them with boys like Roman Godfrey,_ Peter thought bitterly.

"No thanks. I'm actually not feeling great." It was both an attempt to spare the relatively nice girl's feelings and a confession to himself. Peter didn't bother to excuse himself before putting down his beer and looking for a place to be alone. In his search for a quiet spot he found a staircase leading up to what appeared to be an observation room. Sparing a glance at Soraya and Roman still closely dancing without a care, he decided his presence wouldn't be missed.

Soraya's multicolored eyes were drawn to the familiar figure passing through the crowd and up the stairs. Looking around the club, she saw no obvious reason as to his sudden seclusion. The only other thing she could think to be the cause was herself and Roman. Kissing wasn't a big deal to Soraya. It was a normal thing for her. Habit really. And when Roman's lips were there for the taking, she closed her eyes and just let it happen. She had though Peter had gotten a handle on her and Roman's complex relationship, but apparently not. She pulled away from her lover, letting her hand stay entwined with his before the distance pulled them apart. Roman stared after her but made no move to follow.

Her eyes were wide, a sense of wonder on her face as she watched the werewolf disappear into the shadows. A small smile lit up her face as she thought it clever of him, luring her up and away like such. The dragon being lured up by the wolf...Her gaze traveled to Roman, finding him doing just fine at the bar, before continuing up.

It was her party, and she'd hunt if she wanted to.

"What are you doing, hiding away up here?" Soraya found the werewolf sitting on the couch. Peter's innocent blue eyes looked at her with surprise. He didn't expect her to follow him up. Those eyes that had caught her attention in the first place widened, his brows jumping up before settling back on his face. He wasn't much in the party mood at the moment but he wasn't willing to dampen her spirits. He looked to her, curiosity oozing out of him. Why had she followed him up?

"Just needed a break." He lied. Half lied, really. "What are you doing up here?"

Soraya smiled before pointing to the sign on the open door. _VIP_ it read across the frosted glass. "Don't you think I count?" She pouted.

Peter smiled, and looked at his hands in his lap. He attempted to make a joke of his slip up rather than admit he was upset. "Since when do you read?"

"Oh ho ho, smartass." She kicked at his open knee, making him shift his leg enough for her to sit beside him.

Bent arm resting on the back of the couch, she used it to support her chin in her hand as she turned her body to face his. The newly aged girl stared at him with inspecting eyes.

He had a lovely face. All soft features, rounded nose, big baby blue eyes and long dark hair. The waves hung around his face and melded into an ever darkening dusting on his jaw and upper lip. It gave him a rugged look. She was indeed a sucker for a handsome face, but there was something about Peter's, much like Roman's, that drew her to him. Maybe it was the eyes.

Roman's were wide as well, a murky green with the faintest flecks of yellow and brown that only seemed to sparkle in mischief. They were the opposite of Peter's soft blue eyes seemed to captivate and hold your attention, for the friendliness he couldn't hide. And although his eyes were friendly, they were solemn at the same time. She could see the sadness behind his eyes, similar to that of a lost child. He forever had this sad puppy look in them, always desperate for a kind stranger or a new friend. It was a tragedy, really. But Soraya loved nothing more than a handsome mask that covered a tragic soul.

"Do you love him?"

"Hmm?" Soraya hummed, pulled from her thoughts. "Who?"

"Roman." Peter's dark brows furrowed together, surprised he needed to clarify.

Soraya's head tilted, thinking before looking at him with little emotion.

"I don't think I love anyone. I don't think I could if I wanted to." The words were whispered, barely heard between them even with the seclusion from the loud club beneath them.

Peter found no comfort in this.

"Then again," Soraya began with a less sympathetic voice. "-who's to say I even want to? Love's shit. It changes people. Makes them something…"

"Better?" He supplied.

"Twisted." Soraya corrected. "Love comes, love goes... I don't see the fuss in it." She shrugged.

"Now that's bullshit." Peter had to stop her with a laugh. "Who the hell doesn't want to… love someone?"

"Someone who's seen it destroy two people." Soraya stared at those confused blue eyes with her own suddenly cold ones. "Do you know what today marks?"

"I'm officially dating an older woman?"

"I am officially a millionaire. Eighteenth birthday mean 682 million dollars is being wired to my account right now. Can you imagine what that feels like?"

"No." Peter laughed. "But I'm assuming great."

"Empty." She corrected once again. "Me and Roman." He hand dropped from her chin, and ran up Peter's shoulder. Her unnaturally warm touch brushed against his neck as her fingers twirled with his long hair. "We...understand each other. It's magnetic...unexplainable. When you can have anything you want, you stop craving it. It all becomes numb. We stopped being numb when we were together." She confessed.

"But do you love him?"

Soraya stopped her twirling, her mostly blue eyes snapping to lock with his. She saw the way he swallowed, oh so patiently waiting on the edge of his sanity for her answer. Leaning in, she straddled his lap, and placed her hands on his cheek and the back of his neck. He was forced to look up at her even though he couldn't tear his eyes away if he wanted to.

"Do you love me, Peter?" She whispered once more. Peter's heart hammered in his chest, but before he could answer she brushed her lips with his. "Don't." She advised.

Peter knew he should have listened to her. His mother, his cousin, his head, and even Soraya herself, had told him not to, but in that moment staring at her, he knew he was too deep to back out now. He made his choice the moment he grabbed her head and brought her lips to his.

Yes. He loved her. He loved her so much it scared and thrilled him. He loved her so much he was going to let her ruin him.

Soraya needed more from him. While her skin was on fire from his barely restrained kissed, she had an ache that wouldn't go away. She made her interest known when her hand began to rub at the bulge in his pants.

"Wait, wait." Peter pulled back, clutching her wrist when she began to undo his zipper. "Won't someone come liking for the guest of honor?"

"Then they'll see I'm obviously busy. Calm down wolf-boy. " She bit at his lip. Peter tried to continue and enjoy the feel of Soraya's soft hands wrapping around his half hard cock. It should have been a dream come true. So then why did it fear like a nightmare? His eyes kept looking back to the still open door, the flashing lights outside making it seem like someone was about to walk about those stairs any minute. His heart hammered in a new way. He couldn't focus.

Not missing his hesitant kisses and wandering eyes, Soraya sighed in slight annoyance. She needed to redirect his attention back to her. "Stop worrying." Soraya leaned back, giving her the room she needed to take off her shirt.

Peter's attention was certainly redirected. It soaked in the sight of her elegant neck, her mole covered shoulders, the curves of her breast hidden behind the nearly see through red lace, but it was the object hanging between them that made his throat go dry.

Underneath her expensive clothes and flashy black pearls, a blue and silver medallion hung low from a thin chain. His gift. Hidden but there….

His heart stopped seeing the piece of jewelry.

It meant something to her.

With a renewed sense of importance, Peter pulled her flush against him, angling his hips upwards so she could push down his jeans as he bunched her skirt high on her waist.

The werewolf hissed in pleasure when her warm hands stroked him stiff before giving a little teasing twist. Peter bit at her lip before burying his head in her shoulder and his cock inside her.

Soraya gave a satisfied sigh at the feel of him fill her. Gripping him by the hair, she held his face to her, relishing in the mumbled praise he gave her.

So focused on the pleasure between them, Peter missed his previous fear come true.

Roman had waited at the bar, retrieving a refill of whiskey as he looked up at the VIP booth. His sudden solitary state had left him open to the advances of more than a few girls eager to get in while they had a chance to keep his attention. Sadly for them they were mistaken, because even if Soraya Harman wasn't in his arms she held his full attention. After the third advance, Roman had sent the girl away in a near fit of tears before grabbing his drink and following his lover up. The upir heard sounds he was all too familiar with: the sounds of Soraya's muffled moans and breathy sighs. Not bothering to go unnoticed, Roman leaned against the door frame.

"Faster." Soraya ordered him, clutching the back of the couch for leverage as she rode Peter. Roman's head tilted, resting against the cool metal frame. She was so fucking beautiful when she was fucked. Her skin got this pinkish glow to it and every word, no matter how dirty or harsh, sounded like a prayer to god.

Senses overloaded, Peter was too busy looking at their joint bodied see Roman give the smallest smirk. The werewolf huffed and puffed for breath, so close to that release that he almost couldn't cope with the pleasure.

Roman's gaze never strayed from Soraya's form. Green eyes were honed on her with this look of...wonder. Her caressed Peter's cheek once more, her thumb firmly pressing against his lips to silence him before pulling him back towards her breasts. The werewolf gripped a soft mound of flesh and let his tongue dance around the dark pink peak.

Roman watched as her mouth opened wide and a gasp like scream escaped.

It's wasn't his name.

He didn't know why he expected it to be, but it hurts Roman all the same. That wonder was replaced by a bitter betrayal. He'd seen and heard Soraya fuck plenty of people. But that...sound she made. The way the name rolled off her tongue like a siren's song… it had once been reserved for him.

Apparently not any more.

Bitterness shifted from one supernatural to another. Roman left them to their coupling.

* * *

Their time alone had brought Peter's spirits back up. Having returned to the dance floor, the two had lost track of time between drinking and dancing. Roman had snuck off with a couple girls for an hour or so somewhere before returning in a less festive state.

When he had finished with the two girls he had come back to see Soraya grinding her ass against Peter. The werewolf had an equally large grin as his hand slipped above the hem of her top, stroking the skin just below her breasts as he held her close against him. The position wasn't much different from the one Roman and her had been in earlier.

Yet another replacement.

Fury boiled Roman's blood, and even though he'd feel bad about it later, he gave no thought in interrupting to announce his tiresome attitude with the party. Peter and Soraya were so wrapped up in ecstasy, one off the drug and one off love, they didn't mind. Dropping off Peter, Soraya had placed a hard and sloppy kiss to the werewolf's lips, thanking him for the presents, plural, before sending him on his way.

"Did you have fun?" The question was bitter but misinterpreted by Soraya. Funny how so much was that night.

"Of course." She leaned across the gear shift and wrapped her arms around him. Shit. He gave a quiet chuckle. "Thank you, Roman." Her voice was soft and serious. "It's was… sweet." He had taken her to the club they had met it almost a year to the date. It was an anniversary part of sorts, and Soraya hadn't realized it until late in the night when she introduced Peter to a few of their club friends. The girl placed a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before sitting back. Roman frowned as his anger dissipated, the guilt he knew would come hitting him full force as he watched her kick off the shoes he'd bought her.

Roman Godfrey had never been for apologies. As almost anyone knew, he was shit at them. So when he finally managed to scrounge up the stomach to do it, he did it with a flower. He advised Peter in the way of making up to a furious Soraya, not for his sake but simply for the sake of seeing her happy once more. But how did you apologize to someone who wasn't even aware you'd done something wrong? He didn't know. But he had hoped it would be close to the former. So with a theory in mind he steeled himself for the seemingly impossible task with a flower in hand. It was a stray rose that he had previously thought not up to par with what she deserved. Now it acted as a white flag, even if Soraya wasn't aware he was surrendering.

She had already begun her nightly ritual of undressing and petting the snakes. And no, that wasn't a euphemism. Kissing Fluffy's white scaled head, Soraya let the ball python slither back into its enclosure before checking on the new and unnamed bush viper she'd received that morning. She went about without noticing him once more.

Roman was beginning to feel as if he'd finally got his 8 year old wish of being invisible. Following her into the bathroom, his fingers traced the lips of the red petals. He watched as she washed her face and tied up her hair before catching him in the mirror.

"Is this becoming a new fetish of yours?" She patted her face dry, admiring the flawless skin before turning out the lights.

"You saw me?"

"I _felt_ you." She corrected. Soraya could feel Roman's eyes on her across a football field, of course she was gonna feel them burning into her back thirty feet away.

Roman followed her out of the bathroom, the rose falling limply to his side as he sat at the end of her bed. He watched as she undressed slowly. Probably unintentional, the strip tease drew Roman's arousal. The rose in hand, Roman's approached her carefully like a hunter does it's prey. He drew the soft flower up the curve of her spine, bringing it around the front of her to present it.

"What's this?"

"A flower."

"Thanks, I already have a couple." She glared at the ten full vases of the flower around her room. She finished her nightly ritual by applying her mint and vanilla chapstick.

Roman was too perplexed to respond to the smart ass response. "What's that?" His eyes narrowed at the necklace still hanging around her neck. The silver and blue stone medallion wasn't really her style and he'd never seen it before. Soraya's hand laid over it, clutching it almost protectively before quickly turning around. She plucked the rose from his hands, inhaling the scent with a fond smile. "What's this really for?" She glowered without menace.

Roman shrugged, not willing to actually say the words to her. "I shouldn't have made you leave."

The girl gave a barley heard chuckle. She placed the stray rose on the dresser. The thorns had pricked her finger, a small and dark drop of blood forming on her finger pad. With hooded eyes she brought it to Roman's lips. The plush pink flesh parted slightly as she rubbed the blood onto it. "When has anyone ever made me do anything?"

Roman threw her hand out of the way before pressing his blood covered lips to her own. The two shades of red mixed as the taste of blood and vanilla was exchanged.

Roman was hungry.

It was a deep dark pit in his stomach that made him ache until he filled it.

"Please?" Roman begged. Soraya knew what he was asking but wasn't willing to give it to him.

"Rule still stands." One fuck at a time. She had told Peter, like she had told all others, and she meant it. Roman's frustration only grew, pressing her up against the vanity, his lips attacked her's with a vigor as he clumsily reached into her little glass box of treasures only to find the razor not in place. Pulling away he cursed, frantic to get his fix. Soraya ran her nails through his hair, calming him before dipping off to his side and picking it up from the night stand. She begun to hand it to Roman when her mind told her not to. He was...manic at the moment. And she wasn't sure she wasn't to hand him anything sharp for his own sake. Drawing the blade across the top of her left breast, she closed her eyes and hissed when he immediately began lapping at the liquid that spilt from it.

Backed against the wall, Soraya gave a small jump and let Roman lift her from her back thighs. Situating her more in line with the hard bulge of his crotch, her legs wrapped around his hips and gladly accepted the friction he provided. Small huffs of breath escaped her. Roman spared no mercy in his treatment of her bloodies flesh. He massaged her breast, fingers sliding over the cut to spread the blood so he could have more fun licking it up. He was starved for her. 3

"Fuck." Soraya clawed against his back as he ground his erection harder into her. Soraya let her head fall against the wall as he pressed her harder into the wall so he could loosen his grip on her. When she felt his slim fingers lift the chain of her necklace her eyes snapped open. Roman's nimble fingers began to undo the twisting clasp but Soraya clutched the necklace. "Don't." She order him. Roman didn't take the warning seriously and continued to undo the clasp. Having giving him his warning, she planted herself back on the floor and gave him a push back. She was angry and her mood ruined. Roman realized his mistake too late and tried to kiss her once more, hoping she'd let it go.

She wouldn't.

She turned her head away from Roman's kiss, letting it land on her cheek. "No."

"No?" He laughed without humor. He looked to her face, his humor and good mood falling as his eyes caught site of the necklace only Peter could have given her. The light blue stone centered in the disc wasn't her style at all. Yet she had held it away from his grip like it was the most precious thing she had. Take off the rings he'd ordered her, take of the dress he'd had made for her, but god forbid he try and take off the ten dollar piece of shit hanging around her neck. It was so out of character for the girl, a dark thought unsettled his mind. The question that made his fingers ache to clench into a fist was said without emotion. "Do you love him?"

Soraya tightened her grip on his shoulders but kept her mouth closed. Putting her down, his face turned to stone as he removed her hands from his shoulders. Soraya remained passive as he turned and picked up his shirt. He left without a word, unwilling to come to terms with the fact Peter Rumancek wasn't going anywhere. A realization both comforting and terrifying for the prodigal son. Soraya had told him she would always come back to him. But lately she felt further and further away from him. Yes, Roman finally had gained a friend, but what exactly had he lost?

Left alone in the dim room, Soraya clutched the necklace. A terrible sense of fright overcoming her when she suspected the answer wasn't something she herself was ready to admit.

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **Anyone catch on to the parallels with this chapter and chapter 1? What about the caramel and chocolate kiss to the blood and vanilla one? Eh, I try…**

 **Sorry I've been gone so long. I'm back now so please stay interested! I gave you an extra long happy chapter to make up for my absence. Well mostly happy... Please Review to let me know yours still interested in this story.** **:)**


	9. 1x04: Unfamiliar Territory

**-:I:-**

* * *

And why mess up a good thing, baby?  
It's a risk to even fall in love  
So, when you give that look to me  
I better look back carefully  
'Cause this is trouble, yeah this is trouble.

Neon Trees : Sleeping With A Friend

* * *

 **Renegades**

 **In Poor Taste**

 ** _Unfamiliar Territory_**

* * *

This was not her bed.

The sheets were to rough, the pillow was flat, the mattress was springy...

All these things roused Soraya from her sleep. Eyes opening, she found herself face to face with a sleeping Peter. The werewolf was buried in his blankets, clutching them close for warmth on the cold winter night. Soraya gave a large stretched, her back arching high off the bed. Glancing at his clock she gathered they hadn't been asleep for more than an hour or two. There late night of English reading had ended when Soraya began to drift off at the sound of Peter's reading, the werewolf following her into unconsciousness not long after. Though he was much more comfortable than her, her movements disturbed Peter. Peaking out from his blanket burrito he smiled at the sight. When she fell back to the bed he was prepared to sleep once more until the mattress dipped deeper. He groaned as he stretched to catch her, pulling the girl under her blankets and back to him."Stay." He mumbled.

Soraya rubbed at the arm wrapped over her chest, trying to provide him some small comfort as she reminded him of her rules. "I don't sleep over."

"It's freezing out." He laughed, pulling the blankets further over their bare bodies before wrapping his arm around tighter around her and bringing her close.

"I don't feel cold."

"I do." Peter pulled her closer against him. The warmth she radiated felt wonderful. Snuggling his face into the curve of her neck, he loosened his grip, his hand releasing the corner of her shoulder to slide down to the soft flesh of her breast. Falling asleep, Peter managed one last plea. "Just... stay." He sighed as sleep overtook him once more. Soraya looked out to the light dusting of snow falling outside. It would probably be the last of the winter season. While it was nothing she couldn't easily handle in the short walk from the trailer to her car, she must admit her current position was the more favorable one. Her phone read 4 am. Though it went against everything she had decided to stand by, Soraya let her head fall back onto the pillow and closed her eyes.

The sound of the slight ticking of the heater lulled her into sleep once more. Peter managed a small smile against her neck.

* * *

Unlike Soraya and Peter, sleep did not come easy to Shelley that night. And it showed the next morning as she moved the spoon around her porridge without interest. How could she eat as she stared at the drawing of the 'Demon dog' printed on the front page of the paper? Worry sat heavily in her stomach. Soraya had stayed out all night, and though Roman seemed to not want to talk about why, he was undeterred in his reassurance she was fine. Shelley had a feeling his eagerness to change the subject had something to do with the noticeably decreased time the Harman girl spent with him and the increasing amount of time she spent with Peter.

Peter...

The boy who was rumored to be a werewolf. Shelley sincerely hoped with all her heart the rumors were wrong. They must be. Peter was far too kind and sweet to ever do such heinous things. And with his close relationship to Soraya and Roman, Shelley knew he couldn't possibly as bad as Christina was mistaken to believe.

"Good morning, sister!" Roman greeted as he entered the kitchen. Shelley spared him a small twitch of her lips before going back to staring at the paper. Roman pulled a bowl from the cupboard.

"Morning, darling." Their mother came from the dining room entrance. Having just returned from the garden, Olivia rinsed her hands before spotting the paper in Shelley's hand. "There was a time when the breakfast table was a place for civilized conversation." The matriarch gently urged Shelley to put the paper down. With no reason to refuse, Shelley complied, only opening her mouth slightly in objection when Olivia removed it from the table and through it in the trash. She pulled the warming milk from the stove and poured it into Shelley's porridge. Her dark brown eyes landed on Roman expectantly. "I have some business to attend. You need to give your sister a ride."

"Uh, I have plans after school." Roman pulled the cereal from the pantry, he didn't dare look in her direction.

"Indeed. Giving your sister a ride." Olivia corrected. Realizing his childish plan hadn't worked, Roman spared her an annoyed glance. It was yet another mistake as Olivia took the sign of attention to get the answers she wanted. "Your visitor last night... It seemed the two of you had rather a lot to talk about."

"Oh, yeah. We're building a diorama of the solar system." He smirked, pouring the milk into his bowl. "Mercury, Mars... Uranus."

Shelley spared a chortle.

"Don't encourage him." Olivia scolded. "Strange. He told me he was here to finish an English assignment."

"Yep. That's what I said." Roman took a seat across from her without a care. His apathy in the face of his mother's anger only fueled Olivia's temper. Long fingers curling tightly into a fist, she was ready to lose her composure when the silent room was filled with the squeak of the door opening.

The families fight was momentarily put on pause when Soraya entered the kitchen. Even Olivia spared her a glance, her arrival back in the house at the crack of dawn a few hours earlier wasn't exactly an unusual sight. The fact she came in without Roman, however, was. If there was one thing Olivia had to look forward too, the possible end to her and Roman's relationship was it. The sooner Soraya Harman left the sooner the gypsy boy was soon to follow.

Sadly, like most instances involving her son, Olivia severely underestimated the younger woman ties.

Roman wasn't the only one enamored with Soraya. "Where were you? I was worried." Shelley typed out on her phone.

"Sorry. Got held up." The vague answer was accompanied by a soft stroke of Shelley's cheek as she walked passed. Roman's eyes followed though he refused any greeting. His hand tightened on his spoon seeing the silver chain peek out from under her top. One guess as to what was hidden under her shirt. Olivia didn't miss the cold exchange, nor how her son's jaw seemed to tightened as she passed. If Roman wouldn't give her answers maybe the girl would.

"Soraya, what was the gypsy's business here?"

The girl had but a piece of bread in the toaster. Opening the fridge, she paused in her search for butter to spare the seated family a look. A dirty comeback was on the tip of her tongue, but spotting Roman's tense back she hesitated. He had made it clear he didn't want his mother to know about Brooke Bluebell even though he wouldn't tell her why. But before Soraya could answer, Roman was quick to take his mother's steely gaze off her. "Ok. You win, Mom. I've been waiting for the right time to tell you, but without all the fiery passion of your disapproval... We take turns playing Juliet. I hope the headboard didn't make too much noise." Came the sardonic reply.

Olivia collected the pan she had used to warm Shelley's milk and walked it to the sink. She couldn't stand the sight of him at the moment. "What you track into this house you will scrub from the floor."

"Have you ever made a threat so cryptic-" Roman scoffed a laugh. "-you yourself don't understand it?"

Olivia's temper was truly lost, throwing the pan into the sink the metal on metal created a shocking bang and a terrible rumble."I will not have that filth in my house!" She yelled.

It was unsettling. Even at her worst moments, Olivia was a calm and calculated anger. The sudden surge in violence and outlash made the teens freeze. It was Roman who was the first to speak. "All right, I'm going to school." He put his dishes in the sink calmly and without noise. A simple underhanded maneuver that made Olivia's face tick. "Can I pick up some new batteries for your vibrator?" He sneered.

Olivia's hand shook, as she pushed back the hair that had fallen in her face during her outburst. "I hope you're proud of your foulness at your own mother."

Roman was not without feelings for his mother. Though they usually ranged from indifference to resentment, he had found no reason as to why he should feel guilty for her terrible mood. His friends were his business, and the fact she was so angered over him refusing to include her in it was ridiculous. It made him feel guilty. And he had enough things to be guilty for already. "Imagine that whatever comes out of my mouth next is exactly what you want to hear. All right? Come on, Shel." Roman grabbed his suit jacket from the hook the maid had left it on. His sister was quick to take the chance to escape their mothers poor temperament. Grabbing her bag she spared their mother no glance, fearful it would turn her rage on herself.

Soraya was left standing there awkwardly, not willing to comfort the woman or provoke her. After all, she may have a sharp tongue but Olivia was in reach of sharp knives. Her eyes turned to Roman lingering in the doorway. His green eyes staring back at her. His hand straightened before rotating and swinging towards the door he held open. His gaze was expecting and impatient. It seemed the silent treatment was still going strong, even when trying to help her.

Shelley was later dismayed to report this was not the only evidence of a general decline in her family's temper lately. The trio made a quick stop en route to school at the local country store, and who should they encounter but Jenny from the club. To Shelley's surprise, she was ringing up a sale at the jewelry counter. But Jenny looked at Shelley with a distinct lack of enthusiasm and only the barest nod of recognition. Of course the younger girl was crushed and wracked her brains for any offense she may have caused her. Her first assumption, as always, was that it was her own fault. The younger girl tried to make herself scarce as she waited for her brother and Soraya to get their coffee and go.

Soraya grabbed her wallet from her purse, ready to pay when a long arm stretched over her head and handed over a platinum card.

Roman added his own order as Soraya was handed hers. She stared at him with a slightly annoyed expression. Roman was trying to pretend like nothing had happened while still punishing her for it.

"What?!" Her laser focus finally thawed him. "I can't buy you coffee anymore?" He narrowed his eyes in challenge.

A perfectly waxed brow twitched upwards as she took a long drink from her latte. Nearly a week of cold shoulder and bare acknowledgments and that was it? "Fucker." She mumbled, grabbing the muffin she had gotten for Shelley before leaving. As she passed she checked his arm with her shoulder, making him grimace.

Roman's hands tightened into fists. Grabbing his coffee, he followed shortly behind her. He had deprived her of his own attention in order to recapture his. It had worked, technically, just not in the way he had planned. Her anger was beautiful, but her happiness was radiant. Roman missed that happiness directed at him. But he was stubborn and bitter, and he would not be the one to crawl back. Because if he did surrendered that last bit of pride only for her to choose another... Roman's stomach twisted violently at the thought of it.

Following his past lover to the counter he spotted a familiar but misplaced face. Jenny had been missing from the country club the last few months and she had suspiciously been absent from Soraya's party. Leaning against the counter, he caught her attention. "Missed you at the club the other night."

If there was a girl he would have liked to take his frustrations out on it would have been her. Roman was used to being adored by women but Jenny had this great habit of staring at him when they fucked. He was the center of attention like no other at the time. He could have used that the other night or many a night since…

But Jenny did not regard him with her usual flirtatious glanced. "Well, your psycho mother got me fired from the country-club. I had to start working nights here." She wasn't happy about missing the party of the year. She was even less happy having to work here. Loved or hated, the Godfrey's had pull in this town like no other. And when Olivia made it known she wasn't found of the girl, Jenny was resorted to begging her uncle for a job.

"She's a farm-fresh cunt." Roman carelessly spat. Shelley was horrified. Within the walls of their home was one thing, but to talk so in a public setting…

Jenny, however, appreciated the sentiment. She gave her usual flirtatious smile. "You're bad."

Roman winked in response. He remembered clearly their tryst in his car. If she was free later today he could remind her just how bad he was…

The thought of sex, as usual, reminded him of Soraya. His eyes found her a bit behind his sister, too busy drinking her coffee and typing away on her phone to pay them a single bit of attention. From the stupid little smirk on her face he was guessing it was Peter. The only time she looked up from the device was when the familiar flat tone of Shelley's phone interrupted the lull in conversation. "School." She reminded them. Shelley wanted to leave, but Jenny, thriving under the attention of her older brother, tried to make them stay just a bit longer.

"Do you know what would look fabulous on you?" She turned to Shelley and smiled, and the younger girl's dejection of their previous cold meeting was immediately an un-mourned memory. Jenny opened up the glass showcase that held their most expensive piece. A three-tier pair of diamond earrings. "So elegant. Just waiting for the perfect lady. Come here." She summoned Shelley to lean down.

It's astonishing how much of the world's troubles can be erased by the simplest smile and the feeling of something precious against one's cheek. Jenny placed one of the earrings on Shelley's ears and for a moment Shelley forgot about the tension that swarmed her home and loved ones. " _Ah, jolie fille_! What do you think, big brother?"

"I think my sister deserves a diamond as big as the Ritz." Roman ran his thumb over her cheek in affection. A small smile gracing his features before it fell. "But Mom would shit a bowling ball."

"Don't tell me you're becoming the responsible one." Jenny pushed.

It was a step too far. Her confidence was misplaced, and Roman spared her a slight glare. "Who told you anything about us?"

Shelley was disappointed. If there was ever a time she looked forward to the rebellious spirits of her closest confidants, it was that moment. But Roman was right about how mother would receive this gesture, and even he picked his battles. Shelley observed the lingering glance her brother and Soraya exchanged as he passed, both teens sharply looking away after a moment. Their gazes held a sadness to them that was misplaced when considering the focus. Something was very wrong between Roman and Soraya, and the thought scared Shelley dearly.

There was a dread to even the calms of this family lately, and Shelley couldn't escape the feeling if things were to continue on this course, it would build to some fearful and mysterious and irreparable end.

* * *

It didn't take an inside look to know that something was wrong in the occupants of the Godfrey mansion. Peter had picked up on it early that morning. Soraya and Roman had made an actual effort to stay clear out of each other's path and in the classes they shared cold shoulders and narrowed glances were all that was exchanged between them. Peter had assumed it was just a regular tiff between friends and ex lovers.

Sharing a table in Chemistry, he had casually placed his arms on the table besides her. Soraya allowed it for a moment, but the sudden warm feeling in her chest made her pull her own away. Peter then realized the fight didn't stem from the couple but from Soraya herself. They didn't have a chance to talk that class, as Soraya genuinely became invested in the experiment an shushed him everytime he interrupted the instructions. A similar issue occurred during lunch and English.

During Lunch Peter had gone to find Soraya only to see her surrounded by too many of her followers to be pulled away. He retreated them in hopes of getting her in English. Had he stuck around he might have heard the topic of conversation. Letha Godfrey had supposedly had a sex dream on the bus. Soraya had allowed the retelling of it, interested in the turn of character in her friend before quickly shutting it down when speculation of who began. It was a small distraction from her own drama that Soraya sorely needed.

In English Peter tried a second time to confront her on her suspected anger. But Soraya had astoundingly gotten to class early and separated herself from himself and Roman both. All hour long he and Roman spared glances at her. Their paths crossed across the room in one such instance. Peter's brows rose, his head tilting towards the girl questioningly as he mouthed a simple question of what was wrong with her. Roman stared at him, unenthusiastic at first (almost tiresome even) before his gaze narrowed and he turned away.

Whatever had happened, Peter was beginning to get the feeling _he_ was to blame.

 _Fan-fucking-tastic._

He probably should have wrote down those steps for apologizing to her…

It seemed he'd be doing it alot.

Peter's fourth and last chance came at the end of the day. On his way to the busses he spotted a familiar straight waterfall of glimmering bronze. Rushing through the green, he barely managed to catch up with her. And even when he did he stumbled over himself trying to keep up. "Hey."

"Hey." She greeted back less enthused.

Peter wasn't willing to let the chance slip by him this time. "I'm sorry." He looked between her and and the stairs they walked down. Soraya sharply stopped in confusion. Peter, not nearly as graceful as she, nearly tripped down the rest of the cement steps when his head turned back to look at her. He grabbed the railing that separated them and looked up at her.

"What did you do?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I was kinda hoping you'd tell me."

"What?" Her face twisted in true confusion, the short shaking of her head making her ponytail whip behind her.

"You...I... Are you mad at me?" He asked, now just as equally confused himself.

"No."

"Oh." Peter didn't have a response for that. "But…You left before I woke up this morning." He frowned. He had made the assumption his asking her to stay had something to do with her foul mood this day.

Soraya adjusted the bag on her shoulder and slowly descended the steps to close the distance between them. "I told you, I don't sleep over." She looked at him as she passed. The small smile she gave was the happiest he'd seen. It lifted his mood instantly.

"Yeah, but you did." He leaned over to whispered in her ear as they walked. The handrail that separated them ended, and spotting Olivia's truck feet away Peter knew he had to act fast. He grabbing her hand and spun them before backing her into the stone wall besides it. "Whatever you're upset about...talk to me." He pleaded. All big blue eyes and worried expression, Peter brought forth that familiar feeling in her chest. All warm and tingly… She had to look away.

"No."

"No?" Peter laughed. Fine, he'd try a different approach. "What is this some _old lady_ thing?" He commented on her new age. Soraya sharply looked back at him.

Those beautiful mostly blue eyes were narrowed in a threatening manner. "I will rip your heart from your chest." She bit.

Peter smiled dimly. "I'm kind waiting for it."

Soraya's face fell, her mask slipping before she became stoic. Softly she called his name. "Peter…" Roman's question hadn't left her mind for a moment.

The werewolf was quick to change the subject, his smile turning humorous once more as he poked her in jest. "Just tell me why you're angry."

 _"I'm not angry!"_ She snapped. Peter raised his eyebrows. That didn't help her case, but in all fairness the assumption she was angry is what made her angry. Soraya gave a calming exhale of of breath and gently touched Peter's face. "I'm _not_ angry." She reassured, kissing his lips gently.

"Tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can make it better."

Peter's hands ran down the curve of her waist, stopping momentarily at her hips to slide under the fabric top. He kept his hands in a respectable place, thumbs stroking over the skin back and forth. "You're kind of making it worse." She sighed against his cheek.

Peter's brow furrowed, a small smile forming as he dared to rest his forehead against her own. "Let me help."

"It's nothing you can fix. Just Roman being...Roman." She sighed, this time in annoyance.

"Roman? What's wrong with Roman?"

"Shelley." She looked forward at something behind him.

Peter was genuinely confused. "Shelley?"

"Hi." The electronic voice came. Peter jumped and pulled his hands out from under her shirt as he stepped back. The motion made it seem much more inappropriate than it was. Shelley averted her eyes and typed an apology.

"It's fine, Shell." Soraya assured. "What do you have there?" Shelley handed over the bag or oranges.

"Why do you have a bag of Oranges?"

"Snacks." Soraya informed him. "Shelley's has a high metabolism. Her mother makes her snacks to keep her full. Except she doesn't like oranges." Soraya narrowed her eyes as she took one from the bag. Olivia was so controlling over her daughter it had gotten to the point most of what she knew about the girl came from what she thought rather than what Shelley actually liked.

Sensing the good mood leaving, Peter was quick to step in. Opening the bag he took out two more oranges. "How hard do you think it is to juggle?"

"You can juggle?"

"We'll find out." He winked at them. Admittedly, it was a poor attempt to impress them, but it got the job done. Shelley and Soraya were in fits of laughter as he started to narrate his triumph. "All right, he's got two." Shelley clapped excitedly, unable to really laugh. Now let's try three." Peter grabbed the 3rd orange from Soraya's hand and added it to the duo. "All right. Oh, and he's doing three at a time! Oh...oh!" His hand missed the mark sending one orange to the floor and the other two falling. "Oh, no, no! He doesn't do it! He doesn't do it!" Peter yelled in faux anguish.

"Terrible." Roman commented. "Got any other tricks?"

Peter noticed the instant change in Soraya's composure. She smile dimmed to a small smirk, her attention purposefully pulled away from the taller boy. Peter wasn't happy she had lost her good mood and his soon followed.

"Not with the ladies present." He glanced at Shelley and Soraya.

Roman followed his lingering look. Obviously Peter picked up on their fight. Unwilling to have the wolf angry at him as well, he was quick to make peace and change the subject. "Whatever. Have you met my cousin Letha?" He motioned to the girl seemingly hiding behind him.

Peter looked at her with an untelling face. He had seen her around school and Soraya plenty, but he had two distinct memories that came to mind when he saw her. Briefly seeing her with Soraya when they caught him listening to Roman and a girl having sex in the bathroom and briefly seeing her this morning on the bus. The latter of the memories being at the forefront of his mind what with the loud announcement of her presence. It's not everyday a girl has a sex dream on a crowded bus. But as for actually meeting her, "No." He stuck out his hand for her to shake, ever the gentleman. "Peter."

"He-ey." Letha stuttered as she stared at Peter with a large crooked grin. Realizing her slight slip in speech, she froze and just stared at him, not moving to take his outstretched hand.

Peter got the hint and dropped the appendage. Turning to Soraya he saw her regard Letha like a weird stranger. "Wow." She commented on the awkward greeting. She looked at Letha was a crinkled brow. That was unusually shy of her. Secondhand embarrassment set it.

"If the circus is over, let's get going." Roman wasn't just referring to Peter. He, too, was desperate to escape this new twilight zone. "Come on, Shel." He opened the backdoor for her.

"What?" Letha raised her shoulders in an effort to make herself smaller. Soraya stared at her with one eye slightly narrowed and the other one's brow raised.

"Nothing..." She shook her head and corrected herself. "Christ, me and you need to have a talk." She sighed to the younger Godfrey as she opened the door for her. Letha made herself as comfortable as she could in the middle seat. When Peter scooted in next to her she stared straight ahead, only looking towards him when his legs brushed with hers. He helped Soraya in with a small pull and closed the door as she situated herself on his lap.

It was cramped but doable, and after a couple minutes only one passenger was uncomfortable. When Peter shifted his leg against Letha's she was reminded of her dream. Eyes sharply looking away from him she tried to find something else to focus on, only to find Roman watching her. "What?" She asked a little too defensively.

Roman retreated from his plan momentarily.. "Nothing…" After a few moments in silence he turned down the radio. "Remember that guy lying in the road the night of the dance? The one who said he saw Brooke Bluebell get killed?"

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking maybe you could talk to your pops, see if you can find out more about him."

"Like what?"

"Like, um, something that might not have made the papers." Roman shrugged.

Letha looked dubiously to Soraya and Peter. Soraya stared back without much emotion and Peter gave an awkward thin lipped smile. "What are you two up to?"

"That's on a need-to-know bas-"

"Hunting the demon dog." Silence fell in the car as all eyes turned to Peter, who kept that thin lipped smile.

"No, you're not." Letha looked agasped.

"There are mitigating circumstances. We think the demon dog might actually be a person."

"Are you high?!"

"Beside the point." Roman shook it off. In all honesty though, he had popped an oxy an hour ago. "This guy is hurting people."

"OK. A: it's not a guy. It's an it. B, say you had a single good reason to think it was a person, you can't seriously think you're better off chasing him than a trained professional. And C, what do you think a psychiatric patient's gonna be able to tell you?"

"Is that a yes?" Soraya interrupted. Her arm stretched behind Peter's neck, playing with the long wavy strands.

"Say it was a person." Letha rolled her eyes. "What do you imagine you're gonna do when you find him?"

"What do you think, sweetheart? Put him in the pound." Roman joked.

Letha didn't find it humorous. "Can I ask what possible good you think is gonna come from this?" She looked at the three for any indication.

Peter looked at Soraya, admiring the sharp angles and soft curves of her face, he decided to take a page out of her book. "No." Was his simple response.

Letha looked to the bronze haired girl herself. They were indeed going to have a talk...

* * *

Peter looked at his phone for the third time in as many minutes. He and Roman had agreed to meet in the cemetery at midnight.

The current time: 12:23.

"Goddamn, Godfrey." He sighed, pulling out his box of matches and a joint. He needed to calm his nerves. Blue eyes scanned the area around him, straining to see through the haze the winter fog and glowing moonlight provided. He couldn't see more than maybe twenty feet in front of him. It was great for concealing what dastardly deeds they planned to do, but coverage works both ways, and with no possible way to know if they were being watched themselves, Peter felt a chill on his spine.

At the thought of possibly being watched, Peter listened closely for any indication of a living soul. His senses were heightened, his hearing straining. A bush rustled to his left, and Peter's wide eyes focused intently on it. An owl shot forth from the top of it, screeching as it dove to pick up it's prey. Peter jumped at the sudden sound and movement, his heart beating in his chest.

The werewolf smiled to himself, reminding him he had only himself to blame for psyching himself out. Just as he had begun to relax a clawed hand gripped his shoulder. With an indignant yelp Peter spun as he fell back. "Jesus Christ!" The cold grass unforgiving on impact with his back as he stared up at the tall and shadowed figure. He shuffled back on his hands and heels before the figure bent down.

Soraya's face was lit in a large grin as she silently laughed to herself. "Keep that up and I might develop a complex." She stole the joint from between his fingers, patting his head in an assurance he was safe.

Peter could barely breath between his laughter of relief. "Why the hell are you here? Where's Roman?"

"Grabbing shovels. Thanks to you stupid loud mouths Letha and Shelley both begged me to keep an eye on your dumb-asses. What can I say, it's hard to say no to a Godfrey, especially those two. Have you seen them upset? They look at your like you've set their puppy on fire."

"Awe, are those feeling?!" Peter teased in a cutesy voice. "Carefully 'Raya sounds like you might care."

"Bite me." She laughed, holding out her hand to give him the leverage he needed to get up. A figure moving at the edge of the cemetery's gate drew both of their attention. Peter sighed as Roman threw the shovels over the fence before jumping it himself. His all black attire and beanie made Peter's eyes roll.

"Did you actually dress up as a grave robber?" He teased when Roman caught up.

"No. I dressed up like you."

Peter spared a chuckle. Soraya did not. It seemed the tension between them was still going strong, and the utterly silent car ride here had not helped.

But there was hope. Roman, uncomfortable with the silence in the eerie dark cemetery tried to break it. "Did you know that people used to believe the dead came back as bloodthirsty revenants because the bloating of internal organs made them,like, belch up fluid from inside the lungs."

It managed to bring a small smile to Soraya's face, even if it was accompanied by an eyeroll. "This is why I can't let you watch Netflix alone."

Roman, having missed the smile aimed in his direction, quickly and without much though, tried to expand it. Ducking behind a gravestone he peered over it with wide eyes and an off putting grin. "They're coming to get you, Barbara." He reenacted a scene from one of their favorite movies. One they used to curl up in bed to watch on dark rainy nights: Night of the Living Dead. "They're coming for you, Barbara!" It had its intended effect. Unable to keep her facade, Soraya giggled and gently struck him.

Peter was oblivious to the inside joke, and though humorous, it was creepy as fuck. "Is there, like, a summer school for serial killers?"

The trio didn't have long to linger in good spirits before they were faced with the grim dead they had yet to do. Standing over Brooke Bluebell's grave, all three fell silent.

"Shee-it."

"Shee-it."

Peter looked at Soraya with a twitch in the corner of his lips. "Chances of you help-"

"None."

"Just had to ask." He shrugged, grabbing the shovel Roman handed him. As the boys began to dig into the still pretty fresh grave, Soraya sat her pretty ass on a nearby tombstone. Legs swinging back and forth, she looked around the cemetery as she smoked. She'd be look out.

"How many funerals have you been to?"

"A few. Rumanceks are reliably kicking it as a result of positive lifestyle choices."

"I'm sure." Soraya snubbed the last of the joint out on the tombstone. "What are they like for you people?"

His people….Peter closed his eyes to keep them from rolling. Pausing in his digging he leaned his weight onto the shovel. "You guys know I'm half Italian, right?"

"No one cares." Roman and Soraya both droned to him. Peter shook his head before going back to digging.

"Seriously, what's it like? Funerals, I mean." Roman clarified.

"Committed. You're not allowed to eat or wash, mirrors are covered, and the dead guy's stuff is burnt."

"Why?"

"Because a Rumancek should not be remembered for his worldly things." Peter repeated the families mantra. He hesitated, biting his lip before adding the more grisly part. "They also cut off their head."

"What?" The upper class teens echoed.

"Can you stop doing that?" He chastised them. "Things happen to our kind after death if you don't do the head."

"What kind of things?"

"The bad kind."

Soraya gave a dark chuckle. "Gotta love that mysterious gypsy shit."

"I've been to two funerals." Roman offered of himself. "One was my dad's. It's all pieces. I remember hearing the shot and going downstairs. He was on the floor... I remember thinking how much trouble he'd be in for the mess." Roman gave a exhale of breath that sounded close to a chuckle.

Peter was...at a loss for words. He looked up at Soraya for a hint of what to say only to find her looking at Roman with a cloudy gaze. Finally he settled on the simple truth. "That's fucked up."

Roman's small smile dropped. He ordered Peter to continue digging. It was only fifteen minutes later they cleared the dirt from the seal of the casket. As tired as they were, the finish line was in sight. Peter dusted off the front of the coffin before opening the bottom half.

They weren't prepared for a months old rotting flesh. They were even less prepared for the absence of it. "Where is she?!" Roman stared at the sand filled bags with disbelieving eyes.

Soraya pocketed the phone she had been playing games on. Standing at the edge of the whole she whistled to catch their attention. "Hey, pretty boys." The boys looked up at her. "They only found half of her. Wrong half."

The boy's heads fell forwards staring at the other closed half of the coffin. "Oh..."

"What would you do without me?" She sighed wistfully.

When Peter opened the top part of the coffin, they found what they had originally expected.

"Oh, fuck me." Roman coughed at the smell. Uptop, Soraya had to step back. Her expression of revulsion was given freely.

"Get the thing from my bag." Peter asked of her.

Keeping one hand covering her nose, she open the leather satchel and pulled out "A jar?"

"Well, you want this dance?" Peter quipped when she hesitated in handing it to him. Her eyes, like Roman's, were focused on her undressed midriff. Soraya had clear memories of kissing up once warm and soft skin, grinning against it as Brook brushed her bronze hair back to keep it from obstructing the view. Now the lower torso was green and blue, with shoelace thick stitches tying it's pieces together.

Soraya lowed the jar before pulling it out of reach at the last moment. "What are you going to do with it?"

Peter brushed the hair from his face, a dark expression sitting heavily on it. "You don't wanna know." Soraya suspected he was right.

"You're the expert." She handed him the jar.

Peter ordered Roman to take the light as they traded. He held the knife with unsteady hands, hesitating as he put it against Brook's stomach. Closing his eyes, he gently touched Brook's head before saying something in Romani. "You don't deserve this." He whispered to her. Without a moment to spare, he plunged the knife into Brook's stomach. Soraya sharply turned away when the stench increased ten fold and the liquefied remains began to bubble out.

"You make this look easy." Roman commented when Peter's hand reached inside the corpse and began to pull out intestines to place in the jar. "What's your cousin gonna do with that?"

"What she can." Peter grunted as he pulled. "No promises."

"The other funeral…"

"Yeah?"

"...It was Shelley's."

Peter froze in his movements. It… He didn't have time to dwell on it at the moment. FIlling the container, he handed the jar to Roman who in turn handed to to Soraya. The girl was careful not to touch the blood smeared on the outside as she placed it back in the satchel. A sudden light caught her attention.

"Guys." She called to them. "Light."

"Light? What does that mean?" Did she need the lantern?

"It means som-"

"Someone's here, someone's here, someone's here, someone's here." Roman chanted in slight panic as he peaked over the edge of the grave.

Panic set in as two figures emerged from the car. The boys scrambled to get out of the grave when Soraya yelled at them as quietly as she could.

"Fingerprints!" She reminded them. "Why the fuck aren't you wearing gloves?!" She chastised them. She was beginning to see why Shelley and Letha had both begged her to put aside her fight with Roman in order to keep an eye on them. Albeit this probably wasn't what they had in mind when they asks...

"Shit." Peter froze.

"Shit!" Roman yelled.

"Wipe!" Soraya ordered them. Peter lifted up the the bag to her before helping Roman. Pulling their sleeves over their hands, they frantically wiped at the handles and lid of the coffin. When they had gotten as much as they could think to have touched, they through the shovels and lantern over and out of the grave.

"Come on." Soraya kneeled down to help give Peter a lift. Roman lifted the shorter boy up, giving him the chance to collect the bag and turn off the attention drawing lantern. Getting a short running start, Roman was able to pull himself up and out all his own.

'Why the fuck are you wearing heels?!" He chastised Soraya as he grabbed her hand with his shovel less one and ran.

* * *

 **Please Review :)**

 **So lots of Seter this chapter but don't worry you're pretty Romaya shipping heads. Also please remember this is an OT3 endgame and to be respectful to other peoples pair of choice. :( You can have your opinion of course but please don't send me ANTI-either of them messages. It's not gonna change my decision on the story and just really ruins my mood for writing. Thank you all for your support (or tolerance in some cases). Please continue to enjoy the story. :)**


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